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Expand your world and make friends.
There still seems to be a pain in his chest, clawing desperately at his skin, hoping to break free and let loose whenever Ikuya remembers those words. He doesn't need friends, he's decided. He's better off on his own, with no one to save him. It's become instinct to distance himself, make himself as small as he can, hidden and not wanting to be found. Really.
When Ikuya takes his seat on his first day of the 'big, scary and completely different world' of Iwatobi Junior High, the first thing he registers is bright red hair and a flash of white teeth in his peripheral vision.
It's too much and too early, but Ikuya turns his head to see the subject of said brightness anyways.
"Hey, hey, do you wanna join the swim club?" The kid with the obscenely red hair practically makes himself tower over another student, who was sitting unbothered at his desk. Was.
"No, I'm..."
Leaning over the other's desk (does this kid even know what personal space is?), he practically shrieks, "Eh, it'll be fine! Let's swim together! Or did you already decide to join another club?"
"Not yet—"
"Then it's fine. Let's swim!" he demands, persistent (read: irritating) as ever, it seems.
And in that moment, Ikuya feels himself gape, because not only is he uncomfortable with the sheer amount of noise, but the pain in his chest blossoms at the idea of being in a silly club. He glares and grits his teeth behind his back. A tiny part of him hopes the kid will eventually turn around to catch his stares, then pick a fight about the importance of swim clubs, just so he can tell him off about how wrong he is.
His name (as he admits to every other person he comes across in order to...perusade those into joining the club) is Shiina Asahi and he doesn't even spare Ikuya a second glance.
Shiina is amusing, to say the least.
It seems almost impossible to ignore him with how loud and bombastic he is, going on and on about the swim club and how he cannot wait to join and gain new members so he can show off his butterfly skills. There’s a shine in his eyes — a fiery passion, an obvious love — whenever he speaks about swimming that Ikuya notices in brief moments when their eyes catch.
(He always ducks his head as soon as Shiina meets his gaze.)
He's noisy and obnoxious, but Ikuya can't not focus on him.
(He very decidely ignores the part of him that wants to be the center of attention to magenta eyes.)
Shiina has made it his goal to steal away Nanase and Tachibana to pool lane dividers and chlorine.
"There's no point in joining," Ikuya says, clipped, to the latter two. "School clubs are just for playing around. For someone who swims seriously at a SC like me, school clubs just seem so half-hearted.” There’s a small break in his voice at the end of his sentence, so he presents himself tall and proud to reiterate, "It's just playing!"
"Aren't you going to eat the rest of your lunch?" a voice pops up from beside Ikuya, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. He backs up slightly just as another voice arrives.
"Huh? Isn't the atmosphere over here kind of heavy?"
Ikuya twists around to stare at the two newcomers; Shiina, of all people, and a boy with hair like sakura trees.
Shiina leans into Ikuya's space and Ikuya doesn't know why he suddenly and inexplainably feels his nerves build up until Shiina inspects him, a hand on his hip and the other stroking his chin and declares, "Ah! You're the one who's always staring at me!"
"Huh! I don't stare at you!" He very clearly lies, hands balling up into fists.
Shiina leers. "No, you do.” Then he nods to himself, triumphant smirk plastered on his face. "What is it? Do you wanna be friends with me that badly?" He tsks to himself and Ikuya doesn't think he's ever felt more enraged than when— "You're so hopeless."
He frowns. "I don't."
Shiina looks far too smug for someone who doesn't seem to be taking Ikuya's word. He turns to his friend (Shigino, if Ikuya recalls), as if there is nothing else to be done about the situation. "I guess it really does come out, even when I try to hide it..."
"What does?" Shigino asks, innocently.
Shiina places both hands on his hips, victorious. "My charisma!"
Is that what he calls it?
(He doesn't quite understand how Shiina has seemed to figure him out when he later declares with all the confidence in the world, "You're too scared to join something you don't know anything about, aren't you?"
He lets Shiina get to him, because next thing he knows, he has a sign up sheet for the school’s swim club clenched tightly into his hand.)
Asahi (no longer Shiina, since “All members of the club are called by their names. It’s not negotiable.”) is an idiot, Ikuya decides, when he tells members of their swim club that he is a first year, right after being introduced as a first year.
Asahi is an idiot, Ikuya decides, when he seems to struggle against the water during his freestyle practice. (Ikuya takes this back, once he sees just how beaten up about the situation Asahi is, but almost doesn't, at the comfort his brother provides. His stomach curls and there's something ugly trying to tear its way out at the relieving hand on Asahi's shoulder.)
Asahi is definitely an idiot, Ikuya decides, when he claims he's perfect and the way he decides to fix his freestyle problem is to chant that he is a genius in the mirror every night.
(A small part of Ikuya, for some reason, hopes it works, hopes to see Asahi overcome this.)
When Asahi decides that they're going to walk home together after swim practice, Ikuya is a bit dumbfounded so obviously he asks, "Why are we going home together?"
He does not appreciate the tone Asahi uses when he says, "Because we live in the same direction, of course?" as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. As if he wants to walk home with him.
"You're such an idiot," he mutters.
"What? I didn't say anything weird, did I?" Asahi whines and puffs his cheeks out in that dramatic way of his, and Ikuya kind of hates himself for finding it a little bit endearing.
(It's their thing, he thinks, a bit aside himself, on the third day when he and Asahi turn to look back at Haru and Makoto, the former with a curt nod and the latter with a hand wave as they wave goodbye before walking together.)
On the fourth day, Asahi decides to go out for ice cream, all smiles and sunshine with crumpled money in his hands ("From my sister," he explains. "She gave me some money after I did all her chores. But, obviously, we're not getting ice cream everyday no matter how much I have because we have to stay in shape for our race!")
"Let's go, this is what friends do," Asahi scowls, impatient, when Ikuya stops on the sidewalk. "They hang out."
"We're friends?" Ikuya asks, genuinely startled.
Asahi turns to him, lips turned down slightly at the corners. "Is that a bad thing?"
"It's not," he admits quickly— too quickly. "I...wouldn't mind being friends."
He’d like to, but there’s a part of Ikuya that knows he doesn’t [shouldn’t] need them. Not when he needs to focus on swimming. Not when he knows he’ll end up being a burden. Not when he knows it’s better to keep his distance, watch from afar, like he had been when he first saw Asahi.
But then the corners of Asahi's mouth twitch up and a wide, blazing grin spreads over his cheeks and Ikuya's train of thought disappears. His eyes crinkle when they close, his grin all teeth, shining starlike, and it burns through Ikuya like wildfire.
"Well, look at that," Asahi says. "You do like me after all."
Ikuya looks away, maybe a little too irritated at being caught once again. "Believe what you want."
"Baa, I knew you wanted to be my friend. It's impossible to resist my charms, so just admit—"
Ikuya picks up his pace, and Asahi takes this a challenge to race to the recently put up ice cream cart, cutting ahead of him.
"Asahi, you can't have a head start, that's cheating—! Oi, before careful, you moron! Stop!”
They end up crashing into the cart, matching red marks on their foreheads (Ikuya smacked his forehead onto the back of Asahi, which proceeded in Asahi stumbling forward onto the cart) and tangled legs. Ikuya launches to his feet. He and Asahi glare heavily at each other in pure rage, the unsaid this is your fault, idiot heard between the both of them before rushing out apologies. Asahi throws a generous amount of money into the open palm of a barely phased teenage boy running the stand.
The two fumble over loud apologies, not even bothering to listen as the young worker tries to calm them down— admittedly not trying too hard.
When the two then round on one another to place the blame, Ikuya's brother shows up, on his way home, leaving later than Ikuya due to 'captain duties', eyebrows raised at the scene before him.
“You assulted me!” Asahi cries out, face blotched red.
"Did you just try to say— it's assasulted, stupid Asahi!”
Natsuya clears his throat, arms crossed, staring hard at the two bickering boys. They quickly silence themselves, but keep sneaking glances to speechlessly blame each other through scrunched up faces. "Jeez, are you two in grade school? Apologize to each other, now." Natsuya fixes them with an older, sterner version of Ikuya's glare, and oh, that's his captain voice.
Asahi kicks the concrete and mumbles, "I’m sorry I wasn't more careful and didn't stop when you told me to."
Ikuya straightens himself up, seemingly unwilling to apologize for a brief moment before Natsuya chastises, "Ikuya, apologies."
"I was going to.” Ikuya spits. He turns his head the other way. "I'm sorry I crashed into you."
"There!" Natsuya claps his hands together, sternness gone in a second. "All settled!" He looks over at the worker, who still looks as disinterested as before. "Sorry for these boys, is it all okay? You know how middle school brats can get—"
As Natsuya chats with the worker to make sure there's no major damage, Ikuya feels a nudge into his shoulder. He glances up and meets Asahi's sheepish smile, notices the small amount of money he still kept in his clutches and smiles right back, let's try again next time.
"Vanilla."
"No."
"Cherry, defintely."
"Still wrong."
"Orange cream?"
"Close."
"Eh? Really?"
"No."
"...Lime?"
"Who's favorite ice cream flavor is lime, Asahi?"
Asahi folds his hands across the back of head, looking properly at home basking in the afternoon light as he contemplates Ikuya's favorite ice cream flavor while they’re in line (because he has to know, he makes Ikuya to be a chocolate man. no? mango, then.) It’s a bit distracting and captivating, honestly, the way the sun captures his hair and makes his face look all warm and how the constant red on his nose and around his eyes looks so—
Asahi's voice thankfully breaks that train of thought. “...give up! Tell me so I can get it for you, dummy."
"Pistachio," Ikuya finally says, smirking.
"Gaah, the one flavor I didn't guess! What the hell!"
"You had an entire list to go off, right in front of you, you could've went through it."
"Damn," Asahi says as if he's just lost a long, overdue battle. He pulls his money out when it’s their turn and asks for two cups of soft served ice cream, one banana and one pistachio, please.
They take a spot where they can look up at the sun without being blinded, fingers becoming sticky as their ice cream melts out the sides of their cups. Ikuya leans back on his palms after setting aside his treat, listening to Asahi talk about anything and everything. He stupidly feels like bringing his fingers to his cheeks, wondering if they're just red from the heat or Asahi's summery presence. Then, Asahi reaches out and pokes a finger into his cheek for him. Ikuya lets out a small, quiet snicker; one that threatens to bubble into something more joyful and loud all the way from his belly.
Suddenly, it all becomes too much, no matter how hard they tried — no matter how hard Ikuya tried — it was never enough. It was always there, even though they tried to ignore the uncertainty that was just waiting to boil over. It became suffocating to watch Haru become closed off, to watch Makoto distance himself, to see Asahi's confidence slipping through his own fingers, and his brother— his brother—
"I'm going to quit the swimming club," he announces and the weight that he believed that would be lifted off his shoulders when he makes his decision doesn't leave, stays stubbornly in place; buries itself deeper.
"What are you saying?" Asahi is the first one to exclaim in protest, marching right up to Ikuya and crinkling his dress shirt into his fist. "Quit playing around! I won't laugh at that sort of joke, okay?"
Ikuya shoves him, because he can't— he can't. "I'm going to quit!" He pushes past him, runs to where his legs take him, ignoring ignoring ignoring the voices calling after him.
His lungs burn, his arms are shaking, his legs are aching, he is aching—
"Wait! Don't be so hasty!"
Before he knows it, he’s being tackled to the ground and there are legs wrapping around his waist, keeping him trapped while hands find themselves gripped into the collar of Ikuya's shirt. "Idiot! After losing just one time— after losing just one time, don't even think about dying!"
Ah, he really is an idiot. Why is he so buddy-buddy with an idiot? "I wouldn't do that! I wasn't planning on doing that! Jeez. Are you crazy?" He pushes roughly at Asahi. "Get off me, you're in the way." He gets his balance back, though his legs still shake and turns his back to three who rushed after him. "Why...are you all here?" he asks quietly, a broken little thing.
"Isn't it obvious? Because we're worried about you!" Asahi shouts, voice loud enough for the three of them.
He folds in on himself once he feels the tears threaten to spill over his cheeks. "Why?"
Makoto, as gentle as he always is, says, "Because we're a team."
His shoulders begin shake. "I became a bother to my brother. I couldn't forgive him for that."
When he hears Haru inform him that his brother was worried about him, figuring there wasn't anything he could do about Ikuya hating him and how he sounded so sad...his whole body trembles, and he no longer bothers to even attempt to try and hide his tears anymore. Then, Makoto says, "You're not alone."
He feels dizzy, his cheeks redden with emotion. He sucks in a breath, sharp and painful. "I always thought having my brother was good enough. I always thought that as long as I had my brother, I didn't need any friends. That's why...after my brother left, I always swam by myself. Even though I was actually...lonely. I thought if I became like Haru, then my brother would look at me again."
"You're so stupid, Ikuya," Asahi snaps, but there's a fondness beneath his words. "Even without doing that, you're fast! I'm sure Natsuya-senpai knows that."
With that, he lets out a loud sob, collapsing onto his knees. He continues to cry — great, big, gulping sobs that make his whole body jerk with every new breath he takes. It's too much— his emotions spill over, and he's overwhelmed, more overwhelmed than he let himself be in a long time.
Through his cries, he hears Asahi panic, muttering to himself, "Towel...towel...I don't have one! Okay! Use this!"
And all Ikuya can think, when he looks over, cries dying down into small sniffles, at the sight of Asahi holding out his red shirt is: stupid Asahi. His heart feels like it's being pinched, warmth filling his chest.
"I don't need that dirty thing," he immediately says.
Well, he doesn't, no matter how kind the gesture.
"What do you mean, 'dirty'?" Asahi riles. "I wash it every day!"
Ikuya's heart speeds up, and that previous warmth spreads all the way to the tips of toes. He laughs, bright and free. He's overwhelmed, but with a different emotion that he doesn't ponder upon for too long because Asahi chants in victory, "Yes! Let's go back to the club! Hehe, club, club!"
"Did you hit your heads?" Natsuya asks, dumdfounded at the four boys bowing to him in apology.
Ikuya quips, "Some idiot knocked me down earlier, so I might have."
"Th— that's because you were acting so suspicious!"
"Most people wouldn't jump to that conclusion."
"What!" Asahi visibily shakes in anger.
"You're just a complete idiot." Asahi retalates by ruffling Ikuya's hair, shrieking in frustration the entire time. "Hey! Stop that! Let me go!"
(Asahi's an idiot, but Ikuya thinks he adores him all the same.)
Afterwards, Asahi decides they should all run home because there's a direct connection between his muscles and his brain, then Haru faints.
(...Maybe not.)
He doesn't mean to overhear Natsuya and Asahi, but once he sees the two figures standing outside the hospital after visiting Haru, his curiosity gets the better of him. He hides behind a nearby wall, peeking as much as he can without being noticed.
Asahi's face is scrunched up, twisting his shirt in his hands in one direction before twisting it the other way. "Natsuya-senpai," he bows, because even though Asahi is a moron, at least he still has manners. "Will you..." Ikuya's never seen him at such a loss of words before, it's a bit worrying. Natsuya patiently stands, letting Asahi gather his wits, to form the right words he wants to say without pestering. Ikuya can hear the gulp he takes. "Will you apologize to Ikuya?"
Ikuya feels his face flush. It seems he's the man of the hour. He presses forward, as if getting closer will provide him with the millions of questions running through his head.
"I— it's just that..." Asahi continues, "he was really upset about you two. He cried, even. I've never seen him cry like that, you know? Even when he got frustrated. I don't...ever want him to cry like that. He thought...well, I don't think he does anymore and I know you don't based off what Haru said but— but. He thought you hated him. And I kept thinking, why would anyone hate him? Yeah, sure, he's a little brat sometimes, but he's always hard-working. He's someone I can look up to, actually. And he's fast! You should be proud to have him as your brother! And all this time, he thought you hated him. I couldn't imagine my sister hating me. And just the thought of it made me so upset, I don't want to imagine what Ikuya went through. I don't mean to step out of turn but..."
"Asahi, thank you."
"Huh? For what?"
"For looking out for my brother, of course.” Natsuya smiles easily, reassuringly. "He's never had someone stand up for him like this. I'm glad he does, and I'm glad it's you."
"Oh!" Asahi drinks in the praise, standing tall, but smiling brightly. “If you want to make the apology even sweeter, buy him some ice cream!"
"Pistachio." They both say at the same time, and Ikuya must be imagining the way their voices go cotton soft and far away, the only word to describe it as being fond.
They decide to stay at Haru's house until his mother returns. They get themselves situtated on Haru's floor, duvets and pillows scattered all around, eyes becoming droopy as the weight and emotion of the day creeps up on them. Before they all rest, Asahi tells them that he wants to make the best out of this team; this team that he clearly has so much love and admiration for.
"Makoto, Haru, don't listen to this idiot's weird theories." Ikuya says after a small sigh.
"Are you trying to pick a fight?”
Ikuya can feel his ears burn red, knows he'll be caught and teased for it, so he covers himself up with his duvet, turns away, and mumbles, "I'm fine swimming alone. I thought if I just swam my best it would be fine...but now I think I want to do a relay with this team." He presses his lips together in an effort to make sure the joy he begins to feel won't escape between his teeth.
(The snicker that Makoto and Asahi share make him think he had no such luck in his attempts to hide his embarassment.)
It's still late, he knows, when he wakes up to a feeling of warmth, curled up in it. The room is enveloped in silver moondust. His eyes are still heavy with much-needed rest and his breathing is still too deep to be fully awake.
The duvet is heavy, but not as heavy as the arm he feels laying on top of it. He blinks, slowly, sees that Asahi is sprawled out on his back, drooling with his mouth hanging open, and alarmingly close. Ikuya’s sleep fuzzy brain puts the pieces together a bit slowly, but he realizes that at some point in the night, he turned to that warmth that Asahi seemed to always radiate.
It's a brief, startling thought, but Ikuya doesn't think to pull away and instead shuts his eyes once more.
“Hey, come on, practice another exchange with me." Asahi whines, pushing into Ikuya's space, elbow resting on his shoulder. The water from his skin drips onto the ground beneath them. Ikuya desperately tries to focus on anything else; like Haru's laps or Natsuya's voice as he encourages the other members. Asahi’s lips turn up, reads that Ikuya is still anxious. "It's okay if you’re nervous. We should keep at it.” He nods to himself. "I'm nervous too, but more of a...tingly kind of excitement? Like, I know once I’m in the water I’ll be okay. If we're gonna win this, we have to keep trying hard, right?"
Ikuya nods right back, thinks about the excited part of his nerves instead of the jittery ones. "Yeah,” he agrees sincerely. "Let's keep going.” He nudges Asahi's shoulder once the other pulls his elbow away, and tries not to focus on the red blush that covers his cheeks at Ikuya's contact.
"Come right back here, stupid Asahi!"
Their exchange practice paid off, and Ikuya feels a swell of pride at that and at how good Asahi has gotten.
He likes watching Asahi swim. He doesn't swim like Haru, but he swims with a very obvious passion and a drive that Ikuya can and will admire. (He's almost too good.) He likes knowing that his exchange with Asahi was near perfect. He likes watching Asahi's smile widen as he resurfacs. He likes Asahi.
(They win, and this time when Ikuya cries, it's of pure, overwhelming glee.)
Months later, near the end of their junior high, something shifts within the group.
Something begins to shift within Ikuya, a feeling all too familiar, but one he welcomes with ease. He's overworking himself training, and in the water he feels something wrap around his body, and he's hopeless to escape. He feels the edges of his vision go dark and his mind feels sticky.
He is all numb limbs and droopy eyes once he wakes, trying to wrap his head around his current situation and to grow accustomed to the light before his world suddenly paints his vision in cherry red.
"You're awake!" Asahi cries out and Ikuya doesn't have a moment to focus before he feels himself heat up at the hands Asahi wraps around his hair and neck, face pressing onto Ikuya's forehead, knee sliding up against one of Ikuya's legs.
(They tell him he passed out from exhaustion. The hospital keeps him overnight. Asahi visits him bright and early the next day before school, angry tears threatening to leak from his eyes.
There's a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands, and he shoves them in Ikuya's face. He then proceeds to lecture him about how worried he was and how he shouldn't be so stupid as to overwork himself.
Ikuya curls his fingers around the flowers and doesn't want to let go.)
"I miss him," he murmurs in a locker room in America, once he finally agrees to take a break from training (but it's not enough, it's never enough.)
"I miss him," he says for the second and last time out loud to his brother, from across the table where they eat their dinner in silence, sun setting low and painting the room with dusty oranges and soft pinks.
It still tastes as bitter and awful as it did the first time the words left his mouth.
(He's back in Japan after moving to America after their swim-club fell apart and Asahi moved away. The rush of feelings he had when he saw Haru for the first time in years is nothing compared to the frantic surprise he feels when he sees Asahi.)
He’s heading to the bathroom, jacket zipped up all the way, thoughts overlapping. As he inches closer, he hears a faint, but all familiar mantra of "I'm a genius. I'm a genius. I'm a..." His eyes widen when he locks his gaze (those magenta eyes, how could he ever forget) with Asahi. "...ge...ni—"
The book Asahi was holding slips between his fingers and lands on the floor with a thud, but Ikuya doesn't hear it over the sudden ringing in his ears. However, he does hear the whispered "Ikuya."
(The sudden rush of affection Ikuya has is absolutely overwhelming because Asahi still chants that he's a genius in the mirror.)
He feels oddly at comfort as he sits with Asahi, the feeling much different from the tense and frustration he felt when he saw Haru.
"I finally get to talk to you." Asahi says, so softspoken, as if not to scare Ikuya away. Ikuya doesn’t get a moment to ponder on the finally, because Asahi asks, “How've you been?"
"Not bad, I guess."
Asahi's gaze drops to his lap, and Ikuya looks back at him, wishing to see the smile that begins to form be directed at him, as it always had so long ago. "There was so much I wanted to tell you.” Then, Asahi does look at him and before Ikuya can ask did you think of me as much as I thought of you, Asahi adds, "I saw Natsuya-senpai in the arena, too."
Ikuya breaks their stare off first. Now that he had gotten Asahi's attention, he had no idea what to do with it. Not while Asahi is looking at him like— like— "I see. I haven't seen him in a while. I haven't put up any results I can be proud enough of to tell him about."
"Ikuya, are you okay?" Asahi asks, and Ikuya knows, he knows that being friends with Asahi means being embraced by larger than life loves, but that amount of caring fills his chest, warm with emotion. "Haru and Makoto have been worried about you, too. We even went to your college campus to try to see you. But that four-eyed jerk kept getting in the way." And in that moment, Asahi looks like he wants to hit someone, hard, and then step on them as a bonus. That feeling coils into something like astonishment, that Asahi would be this desirous for him. All just to talk him. "What's that guy's deal?"
He smiles, all sharp. "Hiyori isn't really a bad guy. I think he's nice, deep down."
"Sorry.” Asahi backs down, sincere. That's the kind of guy he is. "I didn't mean to badmouth your friend."
"I don't know if he's my friend," Ikuya admits. "I can't really tell anymore. When I was in America, I hit a wall, and it made me see a weakness in myself that I didn't notice when I swam on a team. Ever since then, instead of depending on others, I've been swimming with the goal of getting stronger on my own. So I'm not really sure what friends and teammates are to me anymore..." He trails off, lost in the easiness of talking to Asahi, of relaxing in his presence.
"...Sorry.” Asahi's voice is feather-light and Ikuya forgets how gentle he can sound. He wasn’t talking about Asahi, but the fact that Asahi feels guilty about it doesn’t settle well with him. “In middle school, my dad suddenly got transferred, so while you were in America over spring break, I had to move away. I always wanted to apologize."
"It's okay.” His smile that forms is one of shynesss as he imagines a younger Asahi on the other side of the world, still thinking about Ikuya after all these years. "That didn't bother me."
That's a lie. It did bother him, at first. However, he learned to accept that Asahi would never deliberately not tell him something (since he seems incapable of shutting his mouth, sometimes) that important. He assumed it had to do with the timing, but still pondered on missed opportunities and goodbyes for awhile.
"But I'll always think of you as my friend! I believe in the bond we all had.” Asahi says, all passionate and fiery, just the way Ikuya remembers him, like he can take on the world and win. "I know Haru and Makoto feel the same way, so..."
"Thanks,” Ikuya stands. “I'm glad I got to talk to you."
He means it, but he still thinks, In the pool, I'm alone. No one's going to save me.
Ikuya is sinking, sinking, sinking. The water is a dark blue and there's sea foam above him. He feels something — that same something that wrapped around him in junior high — trap him, making him incapable to move his arms, his legs, his neck. His eyes flick up at something so bright and welcoming that appears above him. He sinks for a moment, but then there's an arm around his waist, another on the back of his head, holding on tight.
"I think I’m in love with you," he suddenly blurts. The words sound scratchy, climbing their way out of his throat. He struggles against the breath he loses, but stares into eyes— Asahi's eyes.
"What?" Asahi asks. There's a glow to him, a light in this bleak darkness.
Ikuya struggles to break away from whatever has him in its tight grip. He tugs and twists while Asahi's fingers dig into his hair, cradling his head. Ikuya tries to budge, to move because he is overcome with the desire to touch. His hand breaks free, and for a brief moment, he lets the tips of fingers brush against the red near Asahi's eyes. He inhales and there’s water filling his lungs. He begins to feel himself slipping. He could care less.
"Just hang into me, alright?” Asahi's voice shakes, and that's wrong, Asahi's voice should never sound like that. Ikuya tugs on the hair that curls around his ear for a quick moment and then Asahi is leaning into his touch, and oh, was drowning always this nice?
"I'm in love with you," he repeats, this time with more urgency, and his throat is being squeezed. But he doesn’t want to stop saying it.
In the pool, I'm alone. No one's going to save me.
"You're not alone, stop thinking that,” Asahi holds Ikuya's fingers in his own, kisses the inside of his wrist, but it feels like ice cold water washing over him. "I’m right here—"
He gives up trying to focus on Asahi's words once he realizes that Asahi didn’t say it back— and let's the water overcome him.
He drowns, then he wakes up.
("Bad dream?" Hiyori would probably ask, with that all too knowing smile, if Ikuya were still speaking to him.)
After he swims the race with Haru and makes up with Hiyori, he feels lighter than he has in years. And naturally, as easy as it was to talk with Asahi while he was working things out, it's much easier to talk to him while they're in neighboring lanes.
He feels a smile on his face, one he knows is too soft and warm. Asahi doesn't seem to notice, as he looks ahead at the water, brows crinkled downward in concentration. In apprehension, Ikuya realizes with a bit of start. That needs to fixed, immediately.
"Asahi, are you actually nervous?" He teases around his smile, quirking a brow.
"Not a chance," Asahi scoffs. "I bet you're freaking out, though, huh?"
Ikuya looks down, heart singing against his ribs. "I'm fine. I practiced telling myself in the mirror," he shuts his eyes, deepens his voice in one that he likes to think sounds similiar to the red-head's, "'I'm a genius. I'm a genius.'" He blinks, and smiles back at Asahi. "Familiar?"
He absolutely reels in the way Asahi's cheeks bloom in a red that matches the tint that covers his nose and edges around his eyes. "Wha— you jerk! Don't copy me!"
And they're off.
(The constricting feeling that Ikuya had ever since their swim club in junior high got dismantled is now gone. He falls back into the warm presence of his friends; his friends who he missed and knows he can count on that are back in his life.)
After their exchange, Ikuya cannot stop thinking about those patches of red on Asahi's face.
He feels an unspeakable desire to reach out and skim his thumb on the reddened skin, to press the red under his eyes, thinks of lashes fluttering on his thumb.
While he's at it, he very pointedly cannot ignore the way Asahi's shoulders have now begun to stretch out of his shirts, the way it feels when his shoulder (his now very broad shoulder) nudges against his own, how his hair is more tame, but still curls around the scruff of his neck. And Ikuya wants to take a strand and twirl it between his fingers— to press his palms flat against those shoulders and sink. Really now, when’d he grow up so pretty?
He wants, fervidly and futilely.
"I was thinking," Asahi starts and Ikuya raises an eyebrow.
"That's never a good sign," he deadpans.
Asahi noisely stuffs his face with some ginger pork. "I was thinking, as us intellects do — I'm sure you wouldn't get it — that I should visit more." He makes a particularly loud smacking sound. "We should have more fun. Your place is nice."
Ikuya looks at the bit of food on the corner of Asahi's mouth and thinks widely, briefly, stupidly, about either wiping it away with his thumb and then cupping Asahi's cheek afterwards, or leaning forward on his knees and kissing it away. "Fun? Like in junior high?” he says because he's not really thinking and has no idea what to say to that.
"Alright, smartass. I could still visit more."
”I would like that," Ikuya mutters, because he's still not really thinking.
"You would?"
"I would." He pauses, silent. He looks down at his nearly finished sweet tamagoyaki, then tilts his head back up to look at Asahi.
He feels warm, the food settling nicely in his stomach and the setting sun reflecting across Asahi's face quite beautifully. Not for the first time, Ikuya thinks he looks natural in any kind of sunlight. Asahi is watching him with wide eyes, and Ikuya longs to kiss the shades of light that make shapes on his cheeks.
Asahi must be sun-touched, Ikuya decides in that moment, because he leans into his warmth, asking wordlessly if he can soak in a little of his sunlight.
He and Hiyori are sitting in the stadium, waiting for Makoto and Asahi to arrive in order to prep for their big races today. He bites the inside of his cheeks, hard, when he looks to his left to see Asahi's smile lighting up his whole face, hand waving in a quick motion. He's happy, he knows. But he's happy to see Ikuya, of all people. "Hey! Ikuyaaa!"
"Asahi, Makoto, mor—" he starts to say.
Hiyori pipes up from behind him and cheekily smiles. "Good morning!"
Asahi immediately goes on the defensive, hands up in some sort of protective karate hand position. "Geh!" He steps back in surprise, the collar of dark blue and orange swim jacket scraping against his cheek where he shrinks into it. "You're here, too?"
Ikuya isn't really sure how Asahi feels about Hiyori, but he seems to be warming up to him.
"Did you really think I wouldn't be?" Hiyori inquires.
"Are you racing today, too?"
"No, I'm just here to cheer on Ikuya today."
"Ah, okay.” Asahi nods in understandment. As if cheering on Ikuya is good enough reason to be here. Ikuya blinks slowly and ignores the sly look he knows Hiyori is sending his way.
Asahi turns and smiles right at Ikuya. He's like a dog, he thinks, always begging for someone’s attention. "So what races are you gonna be in, Ikuya?"
"The 100m free and 100m breast."
"He already beat the base time in the IM last time.” Hiyori adds helpfully, always one to promote Ikuya's skills to any and all.
Asahi smirks, and jerks his thumb to himself. "I'm going for free today, too! I beat the 50m base time, so now I'm gonna clear 100m, too!"
"Well, good luck with that," Hiyori nearly snickers. "You'll probably just end up making Ikuya look better."
"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" Asahi's hand falls, head tilted in confusion.
Ikuya picks up the booklet in his lap. "We're in the same heat in the 100m, Asahi."
There's a certain rush he feels at racing against Asahi, not the same he gets when he races Haru. He’s just all around happy to be swimming with him again.
"What?!" Asahi places his hand on chin, deep in thought. "Looks like I'll be able to repay my debt for the freestyle relay already."
Ikuya smiles up toward him. "Okay, then... if I win, you have to buy me something."
"Pistachio drinks are—" Hiyori starts, before Asahi interrupts him with a prevail-filled chuckle.
"‘Pistachio drinks are his favorite’, I bet that’s what you were gonna say!” His eyes shine with pride in brilliant luminosity. "If his favorite ice cream is anything to go by, I’d assume so.”
"I'm sure you'll be ordering it in no time.” Hiyori supplies, a glint in his eyes.
Asahi places his hands on his hips, taking up the challenge. "Well, aren't we confident?" Then he squats down, leans into Ikuya, index finger pointing upward between their faces and Ikuya just cannot seem to look away from his eyes, transfixed. "Okay, if I win, you have to get me a banana shake... in a barrel!"
"What the hell?"
Asahi laughs and Ikuya leans back in his seat, lets his heart set itself into something like an easy simmer. He dozes off for a moment because he's still whirling from the fact that Asahi remembers his favorite flavor after all these years.
("Damn! Sucks that I lost, but more than that, I'm happy that you got to swim freestyle in your way. But, I'm gonna win next time, so be ready!" Asahi compliments, no regrets at swimming with Ikuya, no regrets at anything, so open and truthful as he always has been, but as challenging as ever.
Ikuya doesn’t know how to respond at Asahi being so happy and supportive of him, so he says, "You said that a lot in seventh grade, too.” Then, as an afterthought, "Ah, you owe me a drink."
"Yeah, yeah.” Asahi huffs, then leans far too close and smiles too soft. "It's a date, then.")
Ikuya is reintroduced to Asahi's older sister, meets her husband, and their baby boy. Asahi's a uncle, Ikuya thinks a bit deliriously, at just how much Asahi has grown up.
They're preparing for a big dinner ("Ikuya's back! This calls for celebration, you will not believe just how much Asahi was moping when you were gone—" "Shut up, that never happened! If anything, I was a pinnacle of—" "I swear it was more hard to get him to stop whining than my baby!" "ANE!") by gathering dishes and foods.
A little after, Akane smiles gently, and asks if Ikuya would like to hold her boy as they set up the rest. So now, Ikuya is bouncing him a little, smiling as the baby gapes at him and makes grabby hands at his face with chubby fingers. "He's cute. I was the youngest in my family, so I always wanted a little brother."
"Oh, you're welcome to take my little brother, then." Akane winks over at him.
And if the panic needed to come any faster, Asahi arrives, balancing a pile of dishes, looking almost too good in his olive green shirt. Ikuya finds it unnecessary that it’s a bit tight, showing off his build. "Hmm?"
Then Ikuya starts thinking. He looks at Asahi, feels his face shift as he thinks about having all he—
"Why're you making that face?!" Asahi yells, and Ikuya is eternally grateful for misinterpretations.
It really is a relief, he tells himself, that he has no clue. He hides the flush rising to his cheeks. "No reason."
He didn't realize how close Asahi and Kisumi had actually gotten until he sees how much they laugh and gravitate toward one another over their dinner. He's happy that they caught up with each other in this new, big world, still stayed in touch when Ikuya didn't, couldn't, wouldn't. There's some indignation lying beneath that happiness, disturbing low in his belly; ugly and all too explainable. Kisumi is lively and shameless, lounging arms over shoulders and leaning into anyone's space, claiming and stealing.
It's just friendly, this is just how they are, he says to himself, eyeing a bit too intensely in the way Kisumi says something with a quirk of his brow, which makes Asahi's lips twitch before a full smile blooms across his face.
He's disturbingly becoming familiar with the way Haru felt in junior high when Kisumi was all over Makoto.
He sucks in a quick breath, reaching for some food and swallows it down. He feels like the wind has been knocked out of him. This is just how Kisumi is, Ikuya knows. Kisumi is his friend just as much as he is Asahi or Haru's.
Ikuya realizes through another bite which falters, that Kisumi makes Asahi smile a lot.
He looks away, frowning, and imagines Kisumi's face buried in Asahi's neck, laughter, and pink, pink, pink.
Across from him, Haru raises an eyebrow, knowingly. They’ve both played this game.
Asahi speaks about how he has no regrets, engulfed in the melting sunlight, and about how he'll make it next year if he can't make it through next race. He still talks like there is nothing in the world that can stop him, so Ikuya says, "You really haven't changed a bit since middle school." Because he hasn't. But that's not a bad thing, far from it.
Asahi beams, hands going behind his neck. "Enough with the compliments! You're gonna make me blush!"
"I don't think that was really a compliment," Hiyori remarks, but his tone is amused and exasperated, a natural affect Asahi has on people.
"Huh?" Asahi makes a face. He pulls himself together and smiles all around when they converse about other upcoming races. "Give it all you got! I believe in you both!"
"Good luck in the 200m butterfly, too, Asahi.” Ikuya says and means it with all his heart.
Asahi nods. "And you still have the 100m breakstroke, right? I'll be rooting for you!"
Those words mean more to Ikuya than he cares to admit. His smile is sheepish. "Thank you."
(That night, he dreams of starting on his lane block, looking through a crowd of no names and finding a certain red-head with sunflowers pressed against his chest. I'll be rooting for you.
He dreams of Shiina Asahi, who is like the sun, all warm in his thoughts and always radiating.)
He, Asahi, Kisumi, and Hiyori go to a gym the next day. (And no, it wasn't a double date, try next time, Haru.) They all gather outside after they’ve finished. "Sorry, I need to use the restroom,” Ikuya says.
"Ah, me too," Asahi suddenly says and walks alongside Ikuya. He looks back, waves his hand briefly while Ikuya nods and smiles at the other two. An odd feeling of nostalgia washes over him. "Sorry, we'll be right back."
"Are you lonely, Asahi?" Ikuya teases, a laugh bubbling past the line of his mouth.
"N-no way!"
Ikuya thinks that absolutely nothing could destroy the fondness curling in his chest. "You just need to say so."
"I hope you meant what you said, before.” Ikuya tells him as they walk back. "At your sister's place."
"What did I say at my sister's place?" Asahi glances over at him. He looks, well, downright lovely in his yellow collared shirt. "Fill me in 'cause I said quite a few things and have no clue what you're referring to."
Ikuya clears his throat in order to lower his voice. "'I'm gonna win next time. So be ready.'"
Asahi brightens. "Of course I did."
"Good." Ikuya smiles at the asnwer, fixated on the curl of Asahi's lip. He likes seeing that firey spirit, that fight in Asahi, never wants to see that light burn out.
"You worried about what I said?"
"Not a chance. Just..."
"Do you want me to beat you?"
Asahi looks content and light and flushed. Ikuya thinks he looks all different shades of brilliant just because of this single look.
He shakes his head. "I just like seeing you so passionate about this, is all. I may have missed having it around."
Asahi's smile is still alarmingly sincere, its sharpness cutting through Ikuya like a blade. He throws an arm around Ikuya, uses his other to ruffle his hair like he did when they were kids. "Aw, you missed me! You missed this!" He laughs amongst the warmth of the day, beside himself.
Ikuya tries to tangle away from his grip, chuckling under his breath. "Did you think I wouldn't have?"
"That's absolutely true, you know—“
And in their struggling to rile the other one up, they end up knocking their heads against the other's, which only leads to more fits of giggles. "Asahi!"
"What? No way, that was your fault!" He winces, rubbing his head.
"Stupid Asahi." Ikuya fixes his hair from Asahi's dishevelment. "Of course I missed you."
“For what it’s worth,” Asahi lets his hand trail on Ikuya’s shoulder. “I missed you more.”
They're all dressed up, as a way to celebrate new beginnings and old friendships that continue to blossom and grow. Ikuya has met some of Haru's friends from his Iwataboi High School days, like Matsuoka Rin and Hazuki Nagisa, and others like Yamazaki Sousuke and Momotaro Mikoshiba. It's nice, if not a little stirring, being with so many people. He feels slightly ridiculous in his suit with his dark bowtie.
He finds himself searching for Asahi in this sea of people. Eventually, he spots him enjoying himself on the ballroom floor. He dances with Matsuoka's younger sister, Gou; twirls her once, twice, links arms with Ryugazaki, bumps hips with Natsuya, and then dips Akane.
"No one's going to judge you for joining him, you know.” Haru pops up next to him, impassive as ever.
"Why would I do that!" He definitely does not yell.
"Well, Asahi looks like he could give you a several reasons why."
Ikuya tears his eyes away from Haru, watches with widening eyes as Asahi approaches them. When Asahi stops in front of him, Haru is no longer next to him. Ikuya squints his eyes over Asahi's shoulder only to see Haru leaning into Makoto, smitten.
"I'm here to get you to dance with me.” Asahi says, smug and self-assured.
"No." That self-assurance quickly disappears as soon as the word leaves Ikuya's mouth. He practically slumps. He gets over himself quickly, and huffs for a bit too long. He looks expectantly at Ikuya, waiting for why, at least. Ikuya refuses to give any kind of reply.
"Maybe?" Asahi amends.
Ikuya raises an eyebrow.
"But, listen—"
"No," Ikuya says chivalrously. "There's nothing to listen to and if you think I'm—"
"No matter how stupid you look, it won't make a difference!" Asahi interrupts, ever the optimist. "I'll make sure you won't trip over your feet!"
Ikuya glowers, offended, "So, you think I'm gonna look stupid?"
Asahi holds his hand out. "Won't know until I see, won't I?"
"Fine!" Ikuya snaps, takes Asahi's hand in his. "If you're so insistent on it."
He rests a hand on Asahi's shoulder as Asahi places one on his waist. Asahi twists them, away from the center of the room. Ikuya steps on his shoes, and then concentrates on their feet— concentrates a little too much, because then his head bumps into Asahi's chin. He's warm all over, nothing but jumbled nerves as he tries to find his footing.
"I didn't expect you to be so incapable of some dancing." Asahi laughs, like leaves in autumn.
"I'm not,” he bites out. “I just haven’t ever...”
"Hmm, yeah," Asahi hums in agreement, voice going soft around the edges. "But you catch on pretty fast."
It would be far too easy for him to lean in and capture Asahi's lips in his. The thought gives him a familiar flutter in stomach.
Butterflies, he thinks. Of course.
"Not much to catch onto..." Ikuya trails off, finally meeting Asahi's eyes. And before he can finish that sentence, his breath catches at how intensely Asahi is looking at him. He takes a deep breath and pushes forward. "Why did you ask me to dance?”
Asahi sighs, as if Ikuya is hopeless and this question was to be expected. "I thought it was obvious."
They leave the building where everyone else is occupied and instead stop onto a small bridge, the moon reflecting against the easy, steady water. Asahi tsks to himself, holding Ikuya's at an arms length. He shrugs, then shakes his head. "What am I going to do with you?" His tone is achingly gentle. Ikuya doesn't look away, at a loss for words. "I missed you, you know. So much.” Asahi murmurs, so soft and so sure. "I thought I was being obvious. Guess you're a little slow on the uptake, too, huh?"
Ikuya blinks, very slowly. "What...do you mean?"
"I really missed you," Asahi repeats, and Ikuya's heart clenches.
"So you said."
"And when I finally saw you again, you just looked so sad. And I knew that I wanted— I want to make you happy." Ikuya’s jaw drops, but Asahi keeps going. "I don’t even think I completely realized I liked you until you, uh, went to America with your brother during break. Then I moved, and then you moved to America for a while. It took me that long to understand what my feelings meant. I just— really wanted to let you know because I don't want to miss out on telling you again."
And in that moment, Ikuya loves him intensely. He loves him in the ways he can think of, in all the ways there are. And he says the only words he can, “I love you.”
Then, Asahi smiles brighter than Ikuya's ever witnessed, shoulders raised high in something so happy, eye lines crinkling, red dusting his cheeks. Asahi takes hold of both of his hands, goes to bring them up to his face before pulling them away and pressing kisses on the inside of wrists, pepper light. "I love you," Ikuya says again, as Asahi's breath ghosts over his knuckles. His hands fall back on Asahi’s face and he finally gets to touch.
Asahi’s fingers press against his waist, a steady hold. "I think I've always loved you." He whispers it like it’s a secret between them, which is funny, because Ikuya feels like shouting it all across the tall, escalating buildings of Tokyo, Japan.
There's a warm mouth that steals the breath from his lungs and hands that dig into his hips, weighted and scorching.
Ikuya kisses Asahi like a sun-starved man allowed outside for the first time in years.
(And again, and again, until his breath catches up with him.)