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In the first minute, Shouyou stares at Oikawa who stares at the sea and thinks: oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.
It's just that, you see, in that span of time, in that microscopic apostrophe sixty seconds long, Shouyou finds infinity. Shouyou stares at Oikawa who stares at the sea and disintegrates, dissolves into the night, into the warm sand, into the smell of saltiness.
Shit. Maybe I'm feeling like this because of the last Mojito I had?
No, it's not because of that. It's because of the sea.
It's because of the sound of the sea, and the nightly lapping of the waves. And it's because of Oikawa sitting beside him, staring at the dark, dense ocean as if he wants to drown in it. Not with despair, but with longing: he wants the sea to swallow and devour him.
Oikawa stares at the sea mesmerized, and Shouyou sees his eyes reflecting the ripples of the water. Actually, they do not just reflect, but it’s as if suddenly his eyes have turned into the ocean itself.
No, Shouyou thinks. His eyes didn’t change. The sea changed them.
The sea stole Oikawa's eyes. And Oikawa willingly let it take them in exchange for sixty seconds of immortality.
Was it worth it?
Shouyou stares at Oikawa who stares at the sea.
It was.
(And what about you? Was it worth it? To suffer so much, to sacrifice so much, seconds and hours and days and weeks and months and years, time and time and time, hovering over a slow, agonizing symphony, thorns in the flesh and a noose around the heart. Pain, pain, and sorrow. Was it worth it? Doing all that for an immortality that lasted sixty seconds?
You stare at Oikawa, but you think about the sea. You don't hesitate.
It was.)
*
In the second minute, Shouyou stops staring at Oikawa's face and starts staring at the ocean.
He finds out that there’s not much difference.
Shouyou would like to dive into the water. Slowly, gently, first the tip of his toes, then his ankles, then keep moving forward, letting the water rise, drenching his thighs and stomach and chest and shoulders while his body, step by step, becomes lighter and lighter. Then he wants to hold his breath and go down.
Going underwater means shutting out reality. The only thing you hear is the sound of the ocean compressing you, and the only color you see is that hue of blue soiled by the night. Diving in means getting back to feel yourself entirely, and deeply. Only underwater you can touch your soul.
Sinking means finding, understanding yourself, tracing the contours of your silhouette, and then letting them dissolve with salt. Then the current will carry them away. It will carry you away and you will be able to get anywhere.
Shouyou wants Oikawa all over him just as much as he wants the ocean all over him. He wants to feel Oikawa's hands first on his ankles, then between his thighs, he wants them to go higher and higher, to caress him everywhere. Shouyou wants his hands stuck deep inside his throat.
Shouyou wants Oikawa to swallow him, and then he wants the sea to swallow them both.
(Then go down. Go down. Let the sea tell you a story as it drowns you.)
*
In the third minute, Shouyou touches Oikawa's leg with his heel. Oikawa, at the contact, uncovers his teeth in a smirk without looking away from the ocean.
Look at me. You have to look at me, Shouyou thinks. And then: what do you see? What do you see in front of you, inside the sea? Is it the same thing I see?
Oikawa takes his hand. It is a sudden, unexpected gesture. Shouyou, caught by surprise, straightens his shoulders in a spasm. Then he points his gaze down and looks at their intertwined fingers, blurred in the darkness. Shouyou squeezes and looks at his hand as he does so. The size of their hands is different, but both are hot. Shouyou cannot tell which one is burning more. He feels the sand under his fingertips, silky and rough as glass.
Shouyou wants to put Oikawa's hand in his mouth. He wants to put Oikawa's hand in his mouth and then he wants to lick his fingers and lick the sand on his skin and then his neck and then his lips and swallow first the saliva and the ocean, and then the sky itself. Shouyou wants to swallow everything around him and away from him, wants reality to dissolve under his palate, wants to chug Oikawa like the Mojito from before.
(The sea is ruthless. Yet, from time to time, it can be kind. It lightens your body, disinfects your wounds. And there is kindness in the way Oikawa holds your hand.)
*
In the fourth minute, Oikawa stops staring at the sea and finally turns toward Shouyou.
Shouyou stares into his eyes that shine as if in addition to the sea they have swallowed sunsets. Shouyou basks in that mischievous glint, takes possession of it, and returns it double with flushed cheeks.
"Have you ever regretted it?" Oikawa asks. "Doing all of this."
Oikawa draws a circle with his index finger. Enclosed in that circle is Brazil, the Japan he left behind, the uncertainties, the failures, the stubbornness, the madness on which he chose to bet his dream.
Shouyou thinks he has become able to stop time. He has melted all the clocks in the world, and now the hands no longer exist. And along with the clocks, he has melted away the voices that told him he would never make it. Shouyou stacked all the people who laughed at him in a basket and burned them alive. Throwing their ashes into the sea was the first thing he did when he arrived in Brazil.
Shouyou grins. His cheeks hurt.
"No," he says. "Never."
(Be proud of what you have become. Because when no one is on your side, you will have to be there on your own. You will have to cheer for yourself at the top of your lungs. You, your shadow, your eyes, your heart. Then you will look at the ocean and realize that you’re enough. More than enough. You've always had the key to immortality inside your pocket.)
*
In the fifth minute, Shouyou falls in love. And how could he not? How could he not fall in love when Oikawa stares at him the way he stared at the sea before? How could he not fall in love when Oikawa stares at him as if the secret of that insatiable hunger is kept inside Shouyou?
Shouyou feels so desired. And desires with equal intensity. Oikawa and Shouyou burn more than the sun, more than the sea.
His throat is knotted with happiness and anxiety and excitement, the taste of alcohol and saltiness on his tongue.
Shouyou falls vehemently in love. He wants to stick his hands inside Oikawa’s ribs, tear his body and swim into it.
How could he not want him when the two of them are there, sitting on the beach? How could he not want him with all of himself when Oikawa's fingers are so soft and so tight around his own, when the sea sings and howls and explains to them the meaning of permanent, of indelible?
Where does the ocean begin and end? Where do they begin and end?
(And you feel so fragile. Fragile and on the verge of death, and that's why it's beautiful, why you feel alive and pulsating like your heart. Do you know what you particularly adore? That Oikawa, besides resembling the ocean, resembles your dream come true. He resembles you, he has made the same choices as you, he has the same madness as you, he has bet on the same microscopic probability. Yet he is there, you are there, you are both there and you are insatiable and you are the strongest of all. And the sea, which could kill you in an instant, fell in love with you and decided to spare your life that night and brush your ankles.)
*
In the sixth minute, you want to kiss him so hard that your lips tremble. So you grab his face in your hands and pull closer, smiling a bit clumsily at his surprise.
The first kiss is stiff because you have too much anxiety, so you try again and again until you melt against his mouth and breath.
As you kiss Oikawa, you feel like you are tasting the ocean and arrogance. Oikawa slips into your heart and bones with bewildering ease, because he understands you perfectly, because he knows what it means to give up everything and bet on your own strength when no one believes in the tomorrow you see, in what you will become.
Oikawa knows what it means to love viscerally and violently, knows what it means not to be able to stop wanting, not to be able to stop climbing upward by biting the stone. You two share addiction, hunger, and want a world entirely made of gold.
Oikawa feels immense and grand to you, and then you too feel immense and grand as he kisses your neck, as he slips his hands under your shirt and caresses your back. Oikawa is immense and grand, and then you feel that way, you feel part of the sea, you are part of the sea, destructive and beautiful and fatal and cruel.
You want to kiss Oikawa forever. You want to swallow him and you want him to swallow you.
You two are without end and without beginning, you are selfish, voracious, unfulfilled, boundless, crystallized in the present and in the shells beneath your feet, and because of that, you are perennial.
You are free, free, free.