Archive of Our Own

The stadium’s indoor training pool felt different to Haru in the evening. The amber glow of dusk over Athens made the pool's surface seem alight with dull flame.

Haru sat atop the bottom lane's starting block, his team jacket loose on his shoulders from throwing it on in a hurry to the locker room before someone could herd him to the mixed zone. 

He was wearing nothing underneath it; his silver medal dangling against his bare chest, cold against his breast whenever he shifted even slightly.  

His expression was calm, one he carefully constructed and wore whenever he wanted to give even less away than usual.

He knew someone was searching the venue for him. He had been told as much by a concerned intern, passing by. 

He had told her not to worry. He would wait until he was found.

Loud footsteps and a familiar voice bounced off the walls of the corridor outside. 

He sounded frantic, and a little angry… like he knew he was chasing someone down who refused to come to him. 

It was Rin's voice.

"Haru! Where are you?! Haru—!"

Haru didn't move. His fingers traced the grout line between the pool tiles, counting. 

One. Two. Three...

The voice became clearer, reverberating off the high-windowed walls as the double doors clattered open loudly, violently.

"Haru!"

There you are.

Rin stood in the doorway, his chest heaving beneath his own team jacket. 

His new gold medal, his second gold medal, and first won against, not with Haru—was conspicuously absent. 

What’s wrong, Rin? The biting thought came to Haru like a freezing burn in his brain. Afraid to show me?

As Haru turned on the block to face Rin, he could see his pale red eyes were wild.

Rin wasted no time. 

"What the fuck, Haru?!"

His voice bounced off the tiles, the water. His sneakers squeaked against wet tile as he stormed down the pool deck, breathing hard. Whether from the sprint here or something else, Haru couldn’t tell.

"Do you have any idea—" he stopped a few feet from the block where Haru sat, hands clenching at his sides.

"The federation is looking for you, our friends are looking for you, and you just—you just don't care?!"

His voice cracked, suddenly.

"You can't just—you can't do that, Haru! People were worried! I was—" 

He bit the sentence off, jaw visibly tightening. 

"Even if your health is better now, that doesn’t mean you can just keep disappearing and expect everyone to think you’re okay. You're supposed to be in the mixed zone. You're supposed to be doing your job. With us—with me. Instead you're sitting here at the pool like some—like a child throwing a tantrum because you didn't beat me?"

The accusation was brittle and unfair, and Rin's chest hitched with it, as though instantly regretting letting it leave his lips.

Something shifted behind Haru's eyes. The silver medal glinted in the dusk light as he rose slowly from the starting block, his frame visibly growing more tense.

"A child," he repeated. 

The words were quiet, but carried a subtly quavering undercurrent.

"...is that what you think of me?"

He faced Rin fully, jaw tight, feeling frustration already growing in his chest.

He had come to the pool, to the water and away from everyone else, to reinforce his calm before it unraveled completely, before something worse than leaving happened—and Rin had just barreled right through everything he made to protect himself.

He didn't know why he kept being surprised by Rin’s ability to do that.

"You really, honestly, think I'm here because I care about the medal?" 

Haru's voice dropped lower, quavering at the edges in a way he had wanted so badly to prevent, but was once again helpless against.

"How many times do I have to tell you who I am before you understand me?"

"I..." Rin's voice came out haltingly. He took a half-step back.

"No—" his voice tightened. "No, I’m sorry, I didn't mean—I don't think you're a child, I just—"

Rin's hand came up to his chest, pressing flat against his sternum as if he could physically hold himself together.

"You're not here because of the medal, I know that. I know you, I—" his breath hitched, cutting himself off as he tried to think of what to say.

His immediate backtracking made it become painfully clear to Haru just what situation he was trying to prevent from happening again.

"I just—why?" 

"Why won't you just talk to me? Why do you always—" Rin’s voice broke, and unexpectedly, tears were already spilling down his eyes, quicker than Haru had ever been able to cause them. 

"—why are you running away from me?"

Haru froze. His blood went cold, and his mind began to race. 

No. I didn’t run from you. I didn’t run from anyone—I was waiting for you—I wanted you—I wanted—

The denial rose automatically, instinctively, but it lodged in his throat, because a part of him knew that what he intended wasn't what had actually happened to everyone else.

He had run. He'd run from the cameras, from the celebration, from his teammates, from his friends, from Rin…

And he'd come here, to the water.

To the only thing that had ever made sense. To wait for the one who always chased him to come to him. 

That was how it had always been, and that's how Haru had assumed Rin had always known it to be.

When they were children. When they were teenagers. When they had fought that night under the sakura tree, months before the Fukuoka tournament, and when Haru had waited through those months, patient even as he was drowning, until the night in April when Rin came to him at the night pool in Tokyo.

He thinks I run from him.

The realization, the look on Rin’s face, the tears in his eyes that he’d caused—it had all just become one of the worst feelings Haru would ever experience.

Haru's hand twitched at his side, wanting to move but completely frozen, the horrible feeling spreading in his chest and moving up to his throat.

"I—I—"

"Forget it."

The words came out of Rin very suddenly, so suddenly that Haru visibly jumped.

Rin’s shoulders squared. He wiped his face roughly with the back of his hand, smearing tears, and when he looked at Haru again his expression had turned flat.

"You don't—" Rin's voice caught. He swallowed hard, jaw working. 

"You don't get it. You never get it. I can't do this anymore, Haru, you don't—" 

He stopped and laughed, the sound brittle and ugly.

"You don't want me as much as I want you. That's the truth, isn't it? And that's... that's fine. It’s fine, Haru, just forget it."

He abruptly turned, his footsteps echoing as he walked toward the double doors, his back rigid, his eyes not looking back.

"Don't bother coming back to the mixed zone. I'll tell the others you're fine."

No.

The memories crashed through Haru’s brain in sweeping fragments; the summer during middle school, the day under the sakura tree, the night under the sakura tree, the things left unsaid in the airport, the things left unsaid in the night pool. 

All the silences he'd mistaken for understanding. All the times he’d anguished when Rin disappeared.

And all the times he had let him.

Haru’s arm snapped around his neck, breaking the ribbon that held the silver medal, throwing it until it clattered hard against the farthest wall. 

His legs exploded into motion, swallowing the distance between him and Rin in two heartbeats. 

He hit Rin at the doorway like a wave breaking, his shoulder driving into Rin's midsection, his arms locking around his waist.

The momentum sent them both crashing onto the cold tile. One of Haru's legs kicked the open double doors on impact, the power in his calves sending it slamming shut with a loud slam.

He didn't move to pick himself up off of where he had collapsed against Rin.

Instead, he pinned him there, his chest heaving, his hands fisted into Rin’s jacket, his face buried against his neck.

"How could you?" 

He choked against Rin's skin, his voice ragged and unrecognizable to himself as he broke down.

For the first time since before he met Rin; tears began to pour openly down his face, and a huge sob filled and then wrenched itself from his lungs.

"How could you say I’m the one that runs from you? How could you say you want me more than I want you and never stay?"

Rin lay frozen, staring at the ceiling with soaking wet eyes. His hands trembled, then stilled. 

Slowly, his hands rose.

They found Haru's shoulders first, then slid up the back of Haru's neck, into his soft black hair. Haru’s body went rigid at the touch, then began to tremble.

“...I’m here now.” 

Rin’s voice was so soft it was barely above a rasping whisper.

His words hung in the air between them, and Haru felt them swim to somewhere deep in his chest, filling all the hollow, drought-stricken places the water alone could never have reached.

Haru’s vision blurred, Rin's face swimming beneath him, and a broken sound wrenched from his throat.

He didn't answer. He couldn't. 

Rin’s words were there; he could feel them, but they were too enormous and too tangled with years of confusion, of silence, to force any words of his own past his lips.

So he did what he'd just forced himself to learn to do, and acted.

His clammy hands released their grip on Rin's jacket and slid up to the back of his neck. His fingernails threaded hard into those maroon locks, and he yanked Rin’s head forward. 

Their mouths met.

Rin made a sound against Haru's mouth, something between a gasp and a shuttering sob, the sound swallowed whole by Haru's lips.

His hands, still tangled in Haru's hair, tightened into them. Suddenly, his core engaged, and he rolled.

The movement was fluid but forceful, like a crocodile rolling to rend the flesh from a helpless creature caught in its teeth. 

Haru's back hit the tiles with a dull thud, and before he knew it; Rin was over him.

Rin’s arm curled around his neck lifting to cushion his head, Rin’s knees pinning his hips to the floor.

Haru went willingly, letting Rin take control without resistance.

Even as Rin moved atop him, the connection between their mouths didn’t break for even a moment.

Rin’s mouth just moved against Haru's even harder than before, his movements hungrier with every heartbeat. Their noses bumped and rubbed together hard with each motion.

When Rin lifted his head just long enough to draw in a wet, ragged breath, Haru's flicker of submission ended as quickly as it appeared. 

His hands reached to fist into Rin's jacket a second time and dragged him back down, his fingers twisting in the fabric. 

Come back here.

He opened his mouth against Rin's without hesitation, a soft gasp escaping him as Rin’s tongue slid over his. 

The kiss deepened—warm, wet, tasting salty with tears.

Haru’s arms curled to lock around Rin's back, palms spread wide to feel the heat of him through his jacket.

It was all too much and somehow not enough; his body moved on instinct, his legs shifting, his chest arching up into Rin's weight like a wave meeting shore, his body instinctively trusting Rin to guide him through a sight neither had ever seen before.

One of Rin’s hands slid from Haru's hair down to cup his jaw, his thumb stroking saliva across his cheekbone. 

His other arm braced behind Haru's head trembled with the effort of holding himself up, of not crushing Haru, of making this good, even if they had never done it before, even if he had no idea how.

When the need for air became impossible to ignore, Rin broke the kiss a second time with a wet smack, a thick string of saliva forming and breaking just as quickly as it appeared.

Haru's eyes met with Rin’s own.

He saw Rin's wet mouth open to speak, and his own hand shot up before he could say a word, gripping Rin’s wrist hard enough to break skin.

No. My turn.

"...Y-you think because I don't chase after people like you do, because I don't say things as easily as other guys... that means I could n-never..." 

He cut himself off, his throat clicking, his voice shaking so much it was making his own body tremble.

"...That I'm not thinking about you? You—the only reason I'm here—you, who I was so scared would forget about me the moment you surpassed me in free—the moment I couldn’t—the moment you—"

You idiot that ruined my life—you idiot that changed my life—you idiot that—you—you—you—

His voice broke down completely, a huge tear sliding down his eye down to the tile floor as he fought to articulate himself in ways he never had to until now, when Rin had well and truly broken his mind.

"I-if that's what you've always thought of me, th—then even after a-all this time, you don't understand me at all, and that's your—fault—that's my fau—I'm the one that—you should've—"

Haru cut himself off again, his chest heaving as he let out a cross between a sob and a frustrated scream. 

He didn't regret kissing Rin, Rin kissing him back, their feelings clashing together this way so unexpectedly, in a way neither expected to be reciprocated.

But the maelstrom of emotions Rin had to throw him into to make it happen was killing him, and his chest felt like it was on the verge of exploding. 

Whether a panic attack or a moment of true catharsis, he didn't know.

"Rin—I-I just want—I know you want it to be easy—that you want me to be normal—to be like everyone else—but I'm not—I can't be—I was just—born—different—I'm sorry—"

"Stop!"

The word came out with a sound Rin had never quite made before. It was a broken, keening noise, like something dying inside him. 

Rin’s free hand flew to his own mouth, his fingers pressing hard against his lips as if he could physically hold back the torrent in his throat.

But even if he could speak, the words Haru needed to hear wouldn't form. 

His throat was too tight, his vision too blurred, his entire body shaking with the force of his own sobs.

"No—no—no—" Rin managed, brokenly. 

"No, Haru, I-I never, no—"

Suddenly, distantly, a noise.

Haru heard it before Rin; the clack of approaching footsteps drumming through the air, followed by a man speaking in muffled Greek.

"Giati einai kleista?"

Haru’s body reacted before his mind. 

His free hand shot up and pushed firmly over Rin's mouth, his palm sealing against those lips that had just been on his, silencing his frantic struggle to find words.

"Rin," he hissed. "Help me up. Rin."

Rin's eyes, still soaked with tears, snapped to the door. 

Neither understood the words, but they recognized the tone; the impatience of venue staff realizing something wasn't right.

"Shit—shit—shit—" Rin choked.

Surging to his feet, his hand found Haru's own and pulled, hauling the other muscular man up easily with a strength born of adrenaline and desperation. 

Without a word, he turned and yanked Haru toward the first thing he saw; the shadowed alcove behind the towering equipment racks, where lane dividers were stacked in neat rows.

The footsteps grew louder. A key rattled in the lock.

Rin pushed Haru and himself against the wall behind the heavy racks, the thick rows of lane dividers shielding them just enough to avoid being visible.

He kept his hands on Haru's arms, his head turned to peer through the gaps behind them, his breathing coming fast and shallow, his heart hammering against his ribs. 

Haru steeled his breathing against the cold wall, his face inches apart from Rin's own. 

The sound of foreign words outside the door faded suddenly in his ears as a memory surfaced; Rin pinning him against a chain-link fence back in high school, telling him in that aggressive snarl that he was going to swim for him. 

That same electric feeling, that same breathlessness that had briefly struck him. 

Ah, Haru thought soberingly. So that was attraction after all.

Then, a jolt of panic.

My medal.

His hands shot up, gripping Rin's wrists hard.

"My medal," he rasped, urgent and soft. 

"It's still on the floor by the pool. They'll see it."

They could hear the venue staff clearly now; their footsteps echoing on the pool deck. 

"Pou einai afto?" One of them called out. Then, louder, in English: "Hello? Is anyone here?"

Rin’s eyes turned to Haru in the darkness, wide and desperate.

"Stay."

Rin’s voice was curt and soft, barely above a whisper. Then he released Haru's arms and moved.

Low and quiet, Rin slipped out from behind the equipment racks, moving along the wall behind the two staff members. 

His hand closed around the silver medal where it lay against the baseboard near the far corner, the broken ribbon tangled beside it. He shoved both into his jacket pocket in one smooth motion.

"Hey!"

Rin froze like a deer in headlights. The two staff members stood near the pool's edge, middle-aged men in security vests, looking equal parts startled and suspicious.

For a beat, nobody moved.

Then Rin straightened, painted on his most disarming smile through tear-stained cheeks, and switched to English.

"Sorry! I just, uh—" he scratched the back of his head, letting out a laugh that sounded forced. 

"I came here before my event today, and I just remembered I left something here. I found it, though!"

He held up a thumbs up, the silver medal hidden safely in his jacket pocket.

The two men exchanged glances. One of them said something in Greek to the other, his tone sounding confused but not hostile.

"Just heading out now," Rin added, already backing toward the alcove. "Sorry again for the trouble!"

Suddenly, the radio on the guard's vest crackled, the voice of a man speaking in monotone Greek diverting their attention.

Just then, Rin's fingers clamped around Haru's wrist, urgent, pulling. 

Haru moved without thinking, his body following Rin automatically.

They slipped past the distracted men, their shoulders brushing the doorframe, and hit the corridor at a near-sprint. 

The cool air outside the pool slammed into Haru's damp face. His chest still shuttered slightly, the adrenaline a live current under his skin, but somehow; he felt like he could breathe again.

Rin had a way of doing that, as easily as he had a way of undoing it.

Haru's hand found Rin's elbow as they slowed down, gripping hard. His voice managed to come steady despite the pounding of his heart.

"Where are we going?"

Rin didn't slow down. His hand tightened on Haru's wrist, and when he glanced back, there was something wild and bright in his pale red eyes, his tears still drying on his cheeks, but a grin threatening to break through.

"Somewhere nobody can find us."

Leading Haru, Rin took a sharp left, then another, navigating the labyrinth of back corridors with the confidence of someone who'd spent the past two weeks spending every day in the venue.

Finally, he shoved open a heavy metal door with his shoulder, and the night breeze hit them both.

The rooftop.

Athens sprawled beneath a purple, rapidly darkening sky, the distant hum of traffic and celebration drifting up from the streets far below. 

The Olympic rings glowed a brilliant white against the main stadium in the distance.

Rin let the metal door loudly shut behind them and finally released Haru's wrist. 

He watched as Rin took a step forward, bracing his hands on his knees and taking a deep breath.

Haru looked out at the darkening Athens skyline, the purple sky bleeding into black at the edges. 

The wind was cool against his damp eyes, almost cold, and he closed his eyes briefly, letting it dry the evidence of what had just happened.

When his eyes re-opened, Haru turned and walked to the edge of the rooftop without a word.

He carefully sat, lifting his legs to hang over the ledge, the city sprawling beneath his dangling feet. 

The exhaustion was beginning to hit him all at once. 

It didn't feel wholly physical, but something deeper, like he'd finally set down a weight he'd been carrying for years without even realizing it. 

He didn't like crying. He never had. He had gotten used to being able to suppress the urge, no matter how strong it became.

But some part of him, the part that had been waiting on that starting block for Rin to find him, understood that it was inevitable that something like this would happen before Rin could ever know how he truly felt about him.

His eyes stayed fixed on the distant glow of the rings.

Rin stayed where he was for a long moment, his hands still braced on his knees, regaining control over his breathing after what felt like an hour of being unable to.

The adrenaline was fading, leaving exhaustion and the raw feeling of having cried harder than he had in years.

Eventually, he straightened, and walked over to where Haru sat. 

He hesitated for only a heartbeat before lowering himself down beside him.

The two men were close enough that their shoulders touched, their legs dangling side-by-side.

The wind tugged at their jackets, at their hair, and both watched the distant glow of the Olympic rings in complete silence.

After a moment, Rin's hand moved into his jacket pocket and withdrew the broken ribbon, the silver medal still attached. 

"...Here."

Haru lifted his palm, where Rin laid the medal carefully.

The silence stretched longer. Rin watched as Haru carefully unattached the ribbon from the medal, slipping the silver shape into his own jacket pocket.

When Rin finally spoke again, it was barely above a whisper.

"Haru. You thought I would forget you?"

His voice cracked on the question. Rin's eyes searched Haru's profile in the dusk light.

"How could you think that? How could you ever think that?"

Haru didn't answer right away. 

Instead, his fingers worked methodically at the broken ribbon, tying the frayed ends around his own wrist with the same precise focus he would use on a wood-carved figurine.

He tugged his jacket sleeve down over it, hiding the knot against his skin.

When he finally spoke, he still didn't look at Rin. 

His eyes lifted and re-fixed on the distant glow of the Olympic rings, and a bitter smile crossed his features, thin, humorless, weary in a way that made him look much older than twenty-one.

He said only two words, and they came out flat and final, a verdict long carried and only now surrendered:

"I'm weak."

Rin's jaw immediately clenched. His hands curled into fists on his thighs, his fingernails digging into his palms.

"You—"

"Listen to me."

The command shut Rin up instantly. Haru’s blue eyes didn't turn from the skyline.

"...I already know,” Haru continued, his voice softer.

“Makoto says it. Ikuya says it. All of our friends. That I'm the reason they're here. That I showed them something. That I'm—" he swallowed hard. "—a hero."

The word came out like it tasted bitter.

"But it's always about the water. Always. Every good thing anyone sees in me is just... what I look like when I'm in the water..." 

His hands gripped the concrete edge of the rooftop, his knuckles whitening. 

"Take that away, and I'm just difficult. I’m just strange. I don't know how to talk to people. I don't know how to be with people."

"I don't know how to be a person," his voice cracked. “Not a normal person.”

When he finally turned to face Rin, his eyes were glittering in the darkness, growing wet again, and the look in them was truly miserable.

"Rin, when you beat me... I wasn't angry. I-I was… terrified. Because once you've surpassed me completely—and you will—once you didn't need whatever sights I could show you in the water anymore... there'd be nothing left to make you stay." 

His jaw tightened, his lip quivering.

"There'd be no reason left for you to stay close to someone like me."

Rin stared at him.

The wind whipped between them, carrying the distant sounds below of a city celebrating an event neither of them cared about anymore. 

Rin's chest heaved, his fingers digging so hard into his own thighs that he could leave marks.

Then he laughed, the sound wet, ragged, incredulous, bordering on hysterical.

"You think—" He had to stop, pressing the heel of his palm against his eye. 

"You think I've spent years—years, Haruka—unable to look at another guy without comparing him to you—just because of your swimming?"

His voice cracked on ‘swimming’, like the mere thought hurt him.

"Swimming is how I noticed you. It's not why—Haru, what the hell are you thinking? All the way back in elementary school—why wouldn’t I have just never tried to talk to you outside the club if that was true?" 

Rin's hand dropped from his face, and he turned toward Haru fully, his red eyes blazing even through the lingering wetness.

"Maybe when we met, I wanted to be your friend because you were fast. But tonight, I kissed you because you're you."

Haru's vision blurred again, and he dragged his jacket sleeve across his face with a rough motion. 

The fabric came away damp. He stared at it, then at the Athens skyline, wondering distantly if now that he’d cried in front of Rin, it meant something had broken in him that couldn't be put back together—if crying once after all this time meant crying forever now.

Rin’s words sat heavy in his chest. He wanted to believe them. He wanted to sink into them the way he sank into water. But—

"But I'm not a woman.”

“It’s n-not normal for two men to be together,” he continued, his voice faltering as if he didn’t truly believe it.

“It would make people judge us.”

His hand dropped from his face. His bloodshot eyes turned to look at Rin.

“...I don’t care about myself. I don’t care what people think of me. B-but Rin, you...“

Rin's expression flickered. 

"...I know," he admitted after a long moment. “I know, Haru.”

"I know it's not... I know what people think. I've thought about it. I’ve thought about it for years, I..." 

Rin swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. There was a long silence as Rin prepared to let go of a long-held secret, one that had already been let go by his actions before his words.

 "...I... I've always liked other guys. It… never really bothered me until I went to middle school. I couldn't feel that way for girls, no matter how hard I tried. But I couldn't... I can't tell anyone. Not Mom, not Gou... I'm..."

He looked down at his hands still clenched in his lap. Slowly, deliberately, he uncurled them, pressing his palms flat against his thighs.

"I'm scared."

Haru’s eyes stayed on Rin, but his focus had turned inward, sifting through memories.

"Gou already knows,” he said at last, his voice was quiet but certain. 

"You're right not to trust people who don't know us. But Gou isn't people who don't know us. Neither is your mother. Neither are our friends." 

He paused, thinking about his next words before releasing them.

"...In high school, Gou was with us all the time as team manager, and I..." 

He looked down at his own hands, the broken ribbon still tied around his wrist beneath his sleeve. 

"...I used to catch her watching me, watching you. She'd get flustered and turn away. I didn't understand it then."

A very fragile, subtle smile crossed his features.

"I do now. She's been onto both of us for probably longer than we realize."

Rin stared at Haru for a long moment, the wind stirring his maroon hair across his forehead.

Then, slowly, something in his expression crumbled, not into despair this time, but into something softer, almost like relief.

"She's too smart for her own good," he muttered, hoarsely.

"...Now that I think about it... she's been giving me these looks for years. As far back as when we were kids, every time I talked about you." 

He let out a shaky exhale that was almost a laugh. 

"I guess back then I just thought it was normal to talk about another boy that much."

He shifted, turning his body more fully toward Haru on the ledge. Their knees brushed.

"But... when I was thirteen," he continued, his voice quieter now, "I had this... realization. About myself. That the things I was feeling when I thought of you, of other boys... they weren't as normal as I thought they were. That they were... something else entirely."

His hands clenched against his pants. 

"And I was so... angry about it. I thought it meant I was broken. That I'd never have a normal life. That I'd disappoint everyone—Mom, Gou, my dad." 

His jaw tightened, his eyes growing wet again, faster than they could dry. 

"And then, when I came back to Japan... I pushed you away back then partly because of that. Because you were the one person who made me feel that way the most, and I couldn't handle it."

Haru's face didn't change as he listened. 

The fear Rin had carried alone for so long. The belief that he was broken, or wrong for feeling the way he did.

Haru's chest began to ache with the realization. He knew that feeling. 

He'd spent years convinced he was missing something everyone else seemed to have, some instinct for connection, some ease with being human. 

He'd thought he was the broken one. Now Rin was saying he'd felt the same. It wasn't exactly the same, but it was enough for Haru’s heart to hurt, then lighten, comforted by the idea.

More silence stretched between them, filled only by the wind and the distant hum of the city below. 

Haru's fingers found the ribbon beneath his sleeve, tracing the knot.

"It took me longer."

Haru’s admission was quiet, almost swallowed by the night. 

He wasn't looking at Rin. His eyes had drifted up to the first faint stars emerging in the deepening purple sky.

"To understand what it was. What I felt."

"Even tonight—there’s things I'm remembering. Things I didn't understand back then, as far back as elementary school, that frustrated me so much. That I'm only now realizing were..." 

He paused, searching for the right word, and found none. 

"...this."

His hand dropped from his wrist to the concrete ledge between them, his palm flat against the cold surface.

"I don't care what people call it. I don't care what they call me." 

Finally, he turned his head, meeting Rin's red eyes with his own steady blue. 

"You're the only one who's ever made me feel this. That's all I care to know. If you turned into a woman tomorrow, and then back into a man the day after... it wouldn't change anything for me. You'd still be Rin."

Rin let out a choked sound as he slumped forward, his forehead falling against Haru’s shoulder.

"You've always been like that, haven't you? Free. I’ve admired that about you more than I've ever admired any stroke."

He turned his face into the fabric of Haru's jacket, a shaky exhale stuttering against Haru's collarbone. 

"Hah... it feels like I've spent every night for the last few years lying awake and thinking I was some kind of creep, because I couldn't imagine a world where you'd want something like this…”

He smiled into the curve of Haru's shoulder, sadly. 

"...I'm an idiot. I should've been stronger, I should've tried harder to notice your feelings. I know I've said that to you before… I-I can't promise I won't be saying it a few more times, but… I want to try even harder. I want us to be closer, I want us to be more, I want..."

His head lifted as he reached one hand out, slightly wavering and tentative as he laid it on the underside of Haru's jaw, lifting his face up just slightly as a breeze flitted by, stronger than before.

"I-if that's... okay with you... if it's okay if we keep things between us private, at least for now... Haru, do—would you want to—"

Haru’s mouth opened, then closed, his throat working around something that his mouth refused to speak—anything you want, everything, I've always been, why did it take so long for you to—

Then the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile, one not like the bitter, humorless smile from before, but something smaller, softer, trembling at the edges like the water's surface disturbed by the wind all around them.

I've never wanted to be what someone else wanted, he thought, staring at Rin's hand cradling his jaw. But if it's you asking...

He leaned forward.

Haru's lips met Rin's own, this time soft, careful, certain.

His eyes fell shut, dark lashes brushing his cheeks, and his hand lifted to cover Rin's where it still cradled his jaw. 

The broken ribbon pressed against both their knuckles.

When Haru finally drew back to breathe; he let his head fall forward, into the crook of Rin's shoulder where his skin was exposed, nuzzling slightly until he was close enough to where if he breathed, only Rin would flood his senses.

"I want to be with you," he murmured into Rin's skin.

"I want to be anything you want me to be."

"...You don't have to be anything but who you are," Rin rasped, his voice thick, his hand remaining cupped against Haru’s jaw, his thumb brushing over his skin.

He shifted, turning his head so he could press his nose into the soft skin near Haru’s ear, closing his eyes to fully absorb the sensation of him; the reality that they were here, together. 

A part of him was terrified that when he re-opened his eyes, he'd wake up in his bed in the village on the morning of the final, and realize this had all been a dream.

"Honestly, Haru... if I tried to mold you into something 'normal,' I think I’d lose the parts of you that made me so crazy for you all this time. I don't want you to be anything else. I know you don't understand it, I don't even understand it sometimes... but it's true."

He tilted his head back, his eyes opening to search Haru’s face, tracing the lines of his features that he had memorized so vividly he could pick out in a crowd of a million.

"Don't you believe me?"

Haru was quiet for a long moment, one side of his head still resting against the curve of Rin's shoulder.

As he lifted his head, the corner of his mouth twitched.

"I believe you."

His gaze drifted to Rin's mouth, then back up to his eyes, steady and unblinking. Then, the faintest breath of a laugh escaped him, barely more than air. 

"...After all, you’ve been making terrible decisions since elementary school."

Rin blinked.

His mouth opened, then closed, and a sound escaped him that was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, startled, incredulous, punched out of his chest like he hadn't been bracing for it.

"You—" 

He exhaled hard through his nose, his shoulders shaking with a laugh. "You bastard, I just poured my entire heart out to you and you're making fun of me?"

But the wide grin broke across his face anyway, his sharp teeth caught the late dusk light.

"Besides, you're one to talk," he remarked, playfully. "We both know your recent track record is way worse than mine."

Haru gave Rin a sheepish half-smile in return, and for a long moment, both men sat in silence on the edge of the building, looking out into the city below as dusk turned to night.

They both could see more and more vehicles below them beginning to move away from the venue. The commotion after the final was coming to an end, and the stadium was beginning to clear of people.

"...Haru."

Rin’s fingers curled nervously against the edge of the rooftop.

"Where do we go from here?"

Haru pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them as he stared out at the dark city below. 

The wind had settled into something more gentle as night fell fully, just enough to stir the hair at his temples. 

Rin's question lingered between them, and Haru let it sit for a moment.

He exhaled slowly through his nose.

"Private is fine," Haru murmured. "I don't care who knows or who doesn't know about us. But..."

His fingers found the ribbon beneath his sleeve again, fidgeting with it slightly.

"...Makoto will figure it out on his own. He always does. And if I don't tell him first, he'll be hurt that I kept something from him."

He paused, glancing sidelong at Rin. 

The dark amber light from the stadium below caught the tear tracks still drying on Rin's cheeks, and Haru felt something twist in his chest.

Somehow, the sight of Rin's tears were beginning to hurt more than they had before.

"Sousuke, too," Haru added quietly. "He's yours the way Makoto is mine. He deserves to hear it from you. We can worry about our other friends later."

Rin's breath caught at the mention of Sousuke's name.

"Yeah…" Rin said finally, his voice rough. "Sousuke will probably just... stare at me for a second and then say something annoying like 'I already knew.' He's been giving me looks for years. Like Gou does, I think, but way less subtle than her…"

Rin gave a short, bashful snort. "I just kept pretending I didn't notice him, too."

He let out a slow breath through his nose, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm against the concrete ledge. 

His pinky brushed against Haru's hand where it rested between them.

"...Hey. You've met my mom, but... what about your parents?" He asked, quieter now. 

"I've... never met them. You barely talk about them." He paused, his fingers stilling. 

"Is that... something you'd want? Eventually?"

Haru's eyes widened fractionally at the question.

“Sorry—” Rin said suddenly, the nervousness in his expression growing to fear at the idea of speaking out of turn. 

“I-I shouldn’t—”

"There's nothing to worry about," Haru interjected quickly, his voice reassuring.

His hand shifted on the ledge between them until his pinky overlapped Rin's where it had brushed against his moments ago.

"My relationship with them isn't bad. They just live overseas, and move around a lot. England, right now. My father's work."

He paused, his gaze dropping to where their fingers touched.

"Next time they're back in Japan, I'll take you to meet them. They're open-minded people, you don't need to be nervous. I already know they'll like a guy like you."

His eyes drifted upward to where the moon had begun to shine free from the bruised purple sky, pale and half-full.

"...Our relationship is good now." Haru murmured, quieter. "But it wasn't always."

His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around Rin's. His jaw worked, a muscle flickering beneath his skin, and when he finally turned his head to look at Rin, there was something raw and unfinished behind his eyes, something he was actively choosing to hold back.

"...I'm not ready to talk about that yet," he admitted, his throat constricting around each word.

"B-but… I will be. Eventually. I just... need more time. It's something that's only been between Makoto and I... just because we grew up together. There was no way for him to not know."

Rin's eyes moved to where their pinkies overlapped on the cold concrete, studying the point of contact like it held some answer he'd been searching for.

"Okay,” he said, looking up at Haru with a soft smile.

The word was simple, and he meant it to be. 

"You don't owe me your worst memories, Haru," he continued, gently. 

"You don't owe me anything, really. But when you're ready... I'll be here. Even if 'here' is a rooftop in Athens at—" he glanced at his watch. "—nearly midnight, when we've got obligations we're both completely blowing off."

A playful grin flickered across his face, the sharp edges of his teeth catching the moonlight.

"We're in so much trouble."

Haru glanced carefully down over the ledge, studying the thinning clusters of news vehicles and event officials milling near the venue's ground-level exits. 

The headlights of transport buses were beginning to flicker on in the staging area beyond the parking structure, their engines idling in low, diesel rumbles that carried up distantly on the night breeze.

"It looks like the press is clearing out," Haru observed. He pulled his knees back up, resting his chin on them again. "The shuttle buses to the village are probably running again by now."

A beat passed. Haru’s eyes drifted sideways to Rin, and the corner of his mouth twitched, barely, just enough to betray the impish side of him.

"...We could just go straight back." 

Haru paused, letting the suggestion hang. "Azuma-san and Mikhail can yell at us tomorrow. It's not like it'll make a difference after tonight."

Rin let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a groan, tilting his head back to stare at the dark sky.

"Straight back," he repeated. "You know that's a terrible idea, right?"

He rolled his head to the side, chin dipping toward his shoulder, and the look he gave Haru was something wholly unguarded; warmth and burning excitement alike in those pale red eyes.

“Let's do it."

He shifted his weight, pulling one leg up onto the ledge and leaving the other dangling, the toe of his sneaker tracing aimless patterns against the side of the building. 

His fingers drummed against the concrete, then stilled.

"Do you think if we’re quick, we’ll be able to get to the shuttle before the guys leave?" 

He turned to look at Haru, a sobering sheepishness settling over his previous bravado.

“Because Makoto's group chat has been blowing up my phone for the last hour, and I'm afraid to look at it. I'm seriously afraid. I think they might actually start planning our funeral if we’re late for the team bus.”

Haru rose carefully, brushing the concrete dust from the seat of his pants with one hand.

He kept his eyes fixed on Rin for a moment longer than strictly necessary, then looked away toward the stairwell door.

“At least we'd have a joint funeral," he noted. "That's considerate of them.”

He extended a hand down to Rin, his palm open.

Rin looked at the offered hand, and for a moment, he didn't move. 

The growing moonlight carved silver edges into Haru's silhouette, caught the deep blue of his eyes, and Rin, just for a moment, felt breathless.

Finally, he reached up and took it. Haru's palm was cool from the night air, his grip steady as he pulled Rin to his feet. 

Rin didn't let go right away. Instead, he held on a beat longer than necessary, his thumb brushing once across Haru's knuckles, feeling the raised ridge of the broken ribbon still tied around his wrist.

“Yeah? Which one of us would go into the ground first?”

“I would.”

“Bullshit! I’m a year younger than you, so I would be buried first.”

“When did that become a rule?”

“I’m sure it’s written down somewhere—hold on, who said we would even be buried?”

“You did.”

“I did not!”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The corridors were much quieter than before when Rin and Haru re-entered the building. 

The fluorescent lights across the ceiling buzzed brighter to accommodate for the nighttime, a persistent hum that filled the silence between them as they navigated the maze of hallways back toward their team locker room.

When Rin pushed open the door, the area was mostly empty. A few athletes lingered near the far end. 

Haru recognized a backstroke swimmer from Osaka with his relay alternative, but their stares were brief, curious, and quickly averted. 

Ignoring everyone inside, Haru crossed to a bench near Rin's locker and sat, the wood creaking beneath his weight, and watched as Rin retrieved his bag, dropping it on the bench to rummage through in search of his medal.

Haru saw the glint of gold as Rin pulled it out from under where it had been hastily left under a pile of toiletries. 

Rin held it for a moment before tucking it deeper into the bag into its own pocket, where it wouldn't get scratched.

Haru's hand moved to his jacket pocket before he'd consciously decided to do it. The silver was cool against his fingertips. 

He pulled it out and held it in his palm toward Rin.

"I don't want to lose it on the bus."

Rin looked up from his bag. For a moment, he just stared at the silver medal resting in Haru's open palm, the Olympic ring engraving catching the harsh light of the locker room.

Then, slowly, he reached out and took it. 

The silver was cool and heavy, the ribbon still torn where Haru had ripped it off himself.

"You really did a number on this," Rin murmured. His thumb traced the engraved rings on the medal's face.

He lowered it carefully, then unzipped the small padded pocket inside his bag where his gold medal already sat. 

He tucked Haru's silver beside it, the two medals clicking softly together before he zipped the pocket shut.

Leaving the locker room, they rounded the corner into the lobby and stopped. 

Near the front doors, Makoto stood with his phone pressed to his ear, worry etched into the lines around his mouth. Ikuya paced a tight circuit near the windows. 

Sousuke saw them first. His teal eyes narrowed marginally, and whatever he murmured to the group made Makoto’s head snap up.

Haru felt the guilt hit before he could brace for it. He crossed the distance without thinking, and when he reached them, he made no attempt to hide the guilt in his expression or body language like he would instinctively in any other situation.

“We’re here,” he announced, his gaze flickering briefly toward Rin. 

“...Sorry."

Makoto exhaled, the tension visibly draining from his shoulders. His hand lowered the phone from his ear, and he looked at Haru with an expression that held no anger, only relief.

"Haru..." he breathed, and for a moment he seemed to struggle with whether to pull him into a hug or scold him. 

In the end, he did neither. He just shook his head slowly, a weary smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You're okay. You're both okay."

Sousuke's reaction was far less gentle. His teal eyes swept over Rin, then Haru with scrutiny.

His jaw tightened, but when he spoke, his voice was carefully neutral.

"We were about to split up and search for you," he crossed his arms over his chest. 

"Everybody noticed you weren't in the mixed zone. Everybody. And you two were..." His eyes flicked to Haru, then back to Rin. 

"...where, exactly?"

Ikuya hovered near the windows, his dark eyes wide and unreadable. He said nothing, but his gaze lingered between Haru and Rin with a vehemence that suggested he was seeing more than anyone else in the room.

Haru looked to Rin. Rin's mouth was open, but no sound came out, his jaw working around an excuse that wasn't there, the words dissolving before they reached his tongue. 

The state of both of them, the hours they’d been gone: both told a story no quick explanation could cover.

Ikuya had stopped pacing and walked over to stand with the group. He stood perfectly still now, his dark copper eyes still unreadable but fixed.

Sousuke's arms remained crossed. The silence stretched, beginning to become uncomfortable, before Sousuke finally broke it.

"You don't have to tell us everything," Sousuke sighed in frustration. 

"But you could have at least told us where you were both going before disappearing for two hours." His gaze flicked to Haru, then back to Rin. 

"We're your friends. We were worried."

"The mixed zone was chaos," Ikuya admitted. "Everyone was asking where you both were. Even some people from the Australian team were looking for Rin." 

Makoto stepped forward, his shoulder brushing against Haru's own in a placating gesture.

But now that he was up close, his brow furrowed. 

"Haru, your eyes are red."

Sousuke's gaze sharpened. He looked at Rin, and something close to alarm flickered behind his expression. 

"Did something happen?" Sousuke asked, his voice dropping. "Between you two?"

Haru's hand found Makoto's arm as Rin sputtered, trying to think of something to say to quell the growing concern. Haru’s touch was light, grounding, for both him and Makoto.

"Nothing bad happened."

His voice came out steady, even as the evidence of wetness still clung to his lashes. He didn't try to hide it. There was no point.

His eyes found Makoto’s first, automatically.

"Rin and I needed to talk. After the race." 

His grip on Makoto's arm tightened briefly, then released. 

"I'm sorry I made you worry."

Then his gaze shifted to Sousuke, then Ikuya, steady and unblinking. He owed them something too, even if he couldn't give them the truth right now.

"We'll explain more later. But right now—" 

He glanced toward the lobby doors, where the shuttle buses idled in the loading zone, its interior lights flickering. 

"—we shouldn't make everyone wait any longer than we already have."

Rin stepped forward, standing close enough to Haru that his shoulder brushed Haru's own. 

It was a deliberate choice. A silent signal to the others that whatever had happened between them; they were still standing together, a reassurance that what had happened four years ago was not happening again.

"He's right," Rin reassured, his voice still a little hoarse. "We owe you an explanation. All of you." 

His eyes moved to Sousuke, then Ikuya, then settled on Makoto. 

"But not tonight, okay? It's been... a long night."

Sousuke's jaw worked, his teal eyes still sharp with unasked questions. But after a long moment, he uncrossed his arms and sighed, giving a short nod.

"Fine," he said. "But you're not getting out of this."

The corner of Rin's mouth twitched. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Makoto exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping from their rigid line. He looked at Haru, his green eyes searching, but whatever he found there seemed to settle something in him. 

"Okay," he said, softly. "Let's go."

Ikuya said nothing, but as the group turned toward the lobby doors, he fell into step beside Haru and Rin, offering the pair a small, telling smile as they stepped outside.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The lobby of the village had begun to empty twenty minutes ago, but Haru had stayed on one of the lobby couches, watching the last of their teammates and friends disperse to elevators and stairwells. 

Rin had found a spot by the window and hadn't moved either. 

Now the lobby sat quiet, the only sound being the hum of the vending machine and the distant echo of someone's late-night laughter from up the stairwell. 

Haru rose, his footsteps quiet on the polished tile, and crossed to where Rin stood silhouetted against the dark glass.

He brushed against Rin, their shoulders rubbing together.

Tilting his head, Haru studied Rin's profile against the reflection of the empty lobby. 

"You look like you're waiting for something."

Rin didn't turn from the window. His reflection stared back at him, tense and tired, the lobby lights casting harsh shadows under his eyes. 

"Waiting to wake up," he admitted, his voice soft.

His hand lifted, pressing flat against the cool glass. Outside, Athens sprawled dark and glittering, the village quieting as the hour crept past midnight.

"Tonight doesn't feel real," Rin continued. "I keep thinking I'm going to open my eyes and be back in my room, and none of this will have happened. The race. You, saying..."

Rin trailed off, and his reflection showed a smile, self-deprecating and fragile.

"Pathetic, right? I finally got what I've wanted nearly all my life, and I can't even let myself believe it happened."

Haru frowned. A silence grew between them, filled only by the distant hum of the vending machine and the soft whisper of the building's ventilation.

Then, without a word, Haru stepped closer.

His arms slipped around Rin's waist from behind, slow and deliberate, giving Rin every chance to pull away. 

When he didn't, Haru settled his chin on Rin's shoulder, his chest pressing warm against Rin's back.

"Would it feel more real to you if we shared a bed again?"

He knew it would feel different now. He also knew that every athlete had a room to themselves.

It was precisely why he asked.

"Yeah," Rin breathed out after a short silence. 

"I think it would."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The village walls were thin. Someone's alarm buzzed two rooms over, the slight noise enough to wake Haru before Rin.

The room was still dark when he opened his eyes, but a bar of the early morning sun slipped through the curtain gap, pale as skim milk. 

He could feel Rin's breath, slow and deep, stirring the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. 

His muscular arm lay heavy across Haru’s ribs, his knuckles curled loosely against his sternum, and the warmth of his bare body pressed all along Haru's back was something Haru hadn't known he'd been starving for until now, as it surrounded him completely.

His gaze found the bedside table without his head turning. 

Rin's gold medal and Haru's silver hung from the same ribbon now, and just then, Haru realized what Rin had done while Haru had been in his shower the night before.

With the torn ends of Haru's ribbon, Rin had woven them through the clasp of his own, and now both medals were connected to one single red ribbon, side by side.