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In their third year of junior high school, Hiyori realised he was in love with Ikuya.
It wasn’t much of a surprise, to be honest. Things had always been kind of different with him, the first person he’d considered his friend, and when he noticed that those feelings had turned into (had always been?) something different, it didn’t really come as a shock.
Natsuya had taken them to the ocean for a three-day vacation before school started up again, and he already was asleep in the beach house he’d rented while Hiyori and Ikuya were sitting by the staircase just outside, quietly talking and listening to the waves with the stars shining brightly high above them.
Around that time, Ikuya was already getting more distant, more focused on winning, but sometimes they had these moments were everything felt like it had been reversed a year, back to when they had just been two boys trying their best in their swim club. It was … Warm. Comfortable.
The precise moment he realised what was happening to him was when Ikuya’s hand brushed against his own by accident, just the ghost of a touch that he probably didn’t even notice but that took Hiyori’s breath away in the smallest of gasps—
and he thought, Oh. Oh, right. That makes sense.
Nothing really changed after that. Perhaps because Ikuya was closing off and he didn’t want to risk their friendship, or perhaps because he was fine with this – back when they’d first met, on that day in Iwatobi, he would have never dared hope they could even be friends. Asking for more just seemed selfish, especially knowing that Ikuya was unlikely to return his feelings anyway. It was like his mind was always far away, stuck in some past to which Hiyori couldn’t follow him no matter how hard he tried; so this was enough. Just being his friend was enough.
Just being his friend was all he had.
‘Nanase Haruka’ was a name he’d heard often in passing, both from Ikuya and Natsuya as well as from online sites about swimming. Hiyori didn’t really pay him any mind other than as a potential opponent he’d have to beat – until recently.
He knew, of course, that Nanase used to be Ikuya’s teammate. That in and of itself isn’t a problem to begin with. Even though Ikuya doesn’t swim relays anymore (because of him), even though Ikuya always goes on about how he’s not quite there yet, how he needs to get better (because of him), even though Ikuya gets such a distant look in his eyes whenever the topic comes up as if he still isn’t sitting here, as if he’s still looking back (because of him)— That’s fine. It’s fine.
It’s fine until that day on the bridge and everything that follows after.
Ikuya’s condition reclining. His eyes fixed on the ground and his voice a blatant lie of “I’m alright”, as if Hiyori wasn’t constantly afraid of him almost drowning again.
He didn’t like Nanase coming to Shimogami with his friends asking to speak to Ikuya, but he did name them the right time to come meet him anyway. To be honest, when he did, he wasn’t sure whether he’d want to come along or wait for him elsewhere, ready to step in should things take a turn for the worse, but he had no intention of kicking them out.
That is, before the incident at practice.
Chest heaving, eyes trained down, mouth pressed in a straight line. I’m alright.
It’s quite convenient for him that Ikuya went home earlier than usual, and it’s even more convenient that Tachibana steps in for Nanase to race him (Hiyori’s fairly certain he couldn’t beat Nanase even if his life was on the line). A lot of things that day turn out to be convenient for him.
Not that any of that matters when he sees Ikuya the next day and if anything, he’s just getting worse.
Hiyori remembers – though Ikuya certainly doesn’t – when a girl from his class in second year of high school said to them that it’s amazing how close they are. That Ikuya always looks like he has so many walls up. And she wasn’t wrong, per se. It’s just that Hiyori is part of the world enclosed behind those walls.
“You don’t understand anything! Don’t talk like you do!”
Because if he isn’t—
“I’m his best friend.”
He said that with confidence. With a smile.
Because if he isn’t—
“You know, Toono-kun,” Tachibana says, almost nonchalantly, “when I swam with you, I got the sense that you were trying too hard at something.”
It annoys him to even dignify that with a response. He does it anyway, because anything else would be giving up, and he’s not fallen that far yet. “Trying too hard? Me? Well, you have to try hard to win at tournaments.”
The words ring hollow even to his own ears.
“That’s not what I mean.” Does he have to spell it out? Half of him wants to leave right this instance. “I mean, like, with Ikuya …”
The words still make him flinch, even though he knew they were coming.
‘You’re trying too hard’ is a funny thing to say when trying too hard is all he has going for him. You don’t break those walls by standing there and musing about it.
Whether he’s trying to break out … Or break in.
Once upon a time, he would have thought it had to be the former. He still wants to believe that he’s trapped in there, right by Ikuya’s side.
Because if he isn’t—
Tears of years long past.
Emotions he hasn’t seen on him in what feels like eternities.
Arms wrapped around the person he really needed all this time.
The slight fizz of oxygen in a bottle of carbonated water, so loud it drowns out every other sound by the pool.
Then what even is he?
“If it’s with Hiyori, I know I can pull it off.”
He doesn’t think he quite understands what he’s hearing.
He must be dreaming. That must be it. After that race, after reconciling with Nanase, Ikuya has no need for Hiyori anymore, so why would he …
“I thought about it,” Ikuya says, and his voice is so much softer than before, “and I realised we’ve never done a relay together. This is what we should’ve done from the start.”
His smile – it’s the same smile from back then – the same smile Hiyori fought so desperately to reclaim.
And this time it’s directed at him.
“Come on. Swim with me, Hiyori.”
Swim with me.
With me.
With me.
He doesn’t really get what’s going on.
All he knows is that he wants to hold this moment tight and never let it go.
“Okay, Ikuya.”
Ikuya’s apartment isn’t that far from the pool, so they walk. This time, he’s not complaining about Hiyori tagging along to walk him home, and their silence is heavy but not uncomfortable.
To be honest, he doesn’t know what to say anyway. A lot of things have happened. The one that stands out is Ikuya remembering, but there’s so much more as well – the sound of his voice when he called for him during the relay, the warmth of his hand and his eyes and his smile and his everything when he pulled him out of the water, the newfound feeling of security when he sent him off to go talk to his friends.
Summarising any of that into words would only turn him into more of a bumbling mess than he already feels like.
So he doesn’t.
Even so, it feels like no time at all has passed when they arrive at Ikuya’s place, and while he really doesn’t want to leave, he’s about to say goodbye when Ikuya interrupts him before he can open his mouth.
“Do you want to come inside?” His voice is low, and he’s not looking at him, gaze trained to the ground.
Hiyori almost laughs.
The question is so absurd – he’s never asked him that. Hiyori just happens to come visit him a lot, and Ikuya always lets him in, but he never asks him to stay.
Well, he hasn’t recently. Back in junior high, he would do it all the time, to the point where Natsuya started referring to him as part of the furniture, and they’d sit in Ikuya’s room for hours on end, talking or playing video games or looking at magazines. Sometimes Hiyori would even stay over for the night.
But that stopped at a certain point in their third year, just after their vacation.
They did share a room in high school but that wasn’t the same thing, and sometimes Hiyori asks Ikuya to stay over at his own place instead, but he always declines.
He knew things changed today, but he didn’t think they changed this drastically.
“Sure,” he says with a smile and a certain warmth blooming in his chest.
He’s been in this apartment often, and he still thinks it looks a bit barren, with only the necessities, save for Ikuya’s old worn-out English copy of The Little Mermaid resting on the coffee table. Even after everything, seeing it still makes his stomach drop.
But he walks past it, sitting down on the sofa only for Ikuya to follow and sit next to him.
They’re quiet for a long time.
Eventually, Ikuya is the first one to break the silence – that’s unusual, too. “There was a lot going on.”
Hiyori hums. “Tell me about it.”
“I’m sorry.” The words catch him so off guard he ends up gaping at him with many things to say but no words coming out.
What are you sorry about? Why are you apologising now? What?
Ikuya makes a tiny weird noise somewhere between a groan and a sigh. “For lashing out at you, I mean. I know you were just trying to help.”
Ah.
About that.
It’s none of your concern, Hiyori!
Maybe he was right about that. Maybe he wasn’t – he likes to think that anything that causes Ikuya pain is automatically his concern by association.
“It’s okay,” he manages to reply, and he’s about to add I’m sorry, too, but he doesn’t get that far.
“It’s not! I hurt you, and then I didn’t even talk to you. I was just thinking about Haru. I didn’t even notice how much you cared until I saw your face when I snapped …” He squirms and stares at the book on the coffee table, distant once more but in a different past this time. “So I’m sorry. For saying all those things about how I’m alone, too. I really thought that I was.”
He … Doesn’t have an answer to that.
Hiyori knows that he has things to apologise for too, but after hearing all that, he feels like it would diminish what Ikuya just told him. Truth be told, he probably has to apologise to Nanase more than anyone else, but there are a bunch of things he should have done differently in general, no matter what his intentions were. And yet—
I’m sorry isn’t the right thing, so instead he says, “I know.”
When Ikuya looks up at him, his eyes are wide and filled with something he doesn’t quite understand, and however hard he tries, he can’t look away.
“I … I mean,” he starts over again, but he still can’t look away, their gazes are inseparably locked, like there’s something that draws them together and refuses to let them go, “I know it was hard for you. I just didn’t want to see you suffer. I keep thinking about how happy you looked when we met, and when you stopped smiling, I …”
“Just wanted to go back to how things were,” Ikuya finishes his sentences and a small smile plays on his lips. “I think we both did.”
“To different times, though.” Times in which Hiyori didn’t have a place – he thinks. He thought? “You, to Nanase and the others, and I, to …”
Us.
Those things don’t have to be mutually exclusive. Maybe …
“Not just Haru,” Ikuya argues, though. “I mean, yes, Haru, and Makoto and Asahi, but … I want you to be there too.”
He may have stopped breathing. He’s not really sure.
“I mean, you’ve been there all this time. No matter what was going on, you never left. Just because I was too stupid to see it doesn’t mean it wasn’t happening. I always …” Ikuya finally breaks eye contact and his gaze drops, a bittersweet smile on his lips. “I was always leaning on you. And then I pretended I wasn’t.”
As if I wasn’t leaning on you, too. “That’s …”
“So promise me,” he suddenly blurts out and holds up his hand, pinky outstretched, and Hiyori can only gape as he tries to wrap his head around what’s going on. “Promise me that you’ll stay with me. And don’t be like Haru and ignore it for five years.”
“I wasn’t … I wasn’t planning to leave,” he somehow gets out, and he slowly raises his own hand to interlock their fingers and seal it for good.
As soon as they’ve touched – it can’t have been for more than half a second – Ikuya draws his hand away again and before he knows what’s happening his arms are around Hiyori and he’s holding on tight, squeezing a bit.
Hiyori’s heart might explode.
This is fine. Just being best friends is fine, he attempts to tell himself, as if he’s not hopelessly in love with him.
Reluctantly, his own arms close around Ikuya and he tries not to relish in his warmth and the feeling of being so close—
When he closes his eyes, he can imagine they’re at the beach house, where he first realised his feelings, and Ikuya loves him back.
I love you so much.
Ikuya stiffens in his embrace and leans back to stare at him, mouth open, and he feels like he’s just made a terrible mistake but there’s no way—
He said that out loud, didn’t he.
Well, it was nice while it lasted.
“I’m sorry, I just—”
He doesn’t get further than that.
Because suddenly Ikuya is kissing him – well, trying to kiss him, he’s clearly never done this before and neither has Hiyori so who really knows how this is supposed to be done, but their lips are touching which he assumes is a good thing – not that he can really think anything right now other than what and oh and right and this is happening? It’s happening, right? I haven’t just gone crazy, right?
Before he can even figure out half of what is going on Ikuya is already leaning back again, blushing furiously and looking at everything but Hiyori.
He’s vaguely aware that his glasses are tilted. Everything else is a blur – everything but Ikuya, who’s sharp and clear as ever.
You’re trying too hard, is what Tachibana said, and he thinks he kind of understands it better now. ‘Tunnel vision’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.
Ikuya finally glances at him. “What’s that grin for?”
He’s grinning? He might be. He has every right to be grinning, though. “You’re so cute,” he says and means it.
The pout he receives strangely makes him feel better than anything else today has so far. “Am not.”
“You totally are.”
“Say that again and I’m breaking up with you.”
His heart skips a beat or two or twenty.
(Honestly, at this point Hiyori is wondering how he’s even still alive, or maybe he died years ago and just didn’t notice it.)
Once more today he’s rendered speechless, but if he just understood all of that correctly, that means Ikuya … Actually …
In this moment, the voice of Nanase of all people resounds in his head, their short conversation just after their freestyle relay.
I guess I lost.
In free, maybe.
He wanted to go back. He always did. Ever since Ikuya started losing focus. He wanted to go back to the days when Ikuya was smiling and Hiyori was his best friend and they would visit cafés all around the area to find out which hot chocolate was objectively the best.
But slowly, ever so slowly, he starts thinking that maybe going forward is even better.