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The first time Nitori saw Matsuoka Rin, he got the impression that Matsuoka was someone who knew exactly where he belonged.
With the water, where he almost flowed; quick controlled movements that didn’t allow for mistakes. Later on, Nitori would realise that while Matsuoka didn’t share the natural affinity that Nanase reportedly had for swimming, Matsuoka certainly trained enough to make moving in water a second nature to himself.
Matsuoka belonged with his teammates as well. The bond between them obvious; the way they moved together and smiled at each other; Matsuoka’s arms swung casually over two of the boys’ shoulders, pulling them into a loose embrace, the smile on his face that was so different from his smile now.
It was different now. Things have changed.
Then, Nitori had watched Matsuoka and his friends, one hand clutching the strap of his bag, and had wondered if he would ever feel that same sense of belonging.
He had hopes, at the start of his first year at Samezuka. It had been a surprise—a pleasant one—to find out that he would be sharing a room with Matsuoka for one school year. Nitori hadn’t seen or heard anything of Matsuoka after that one time at the regionals. He found out later that Matsuoka had moved to study in Australia right after winning the relay for Iwatobi. Nitori had no idea what had happened to Matsuoka in that interval, there were so many things Nitori didn’t know and understand about Matsuoka and while he was excited to be in constant contact with the person he considered a role model, Nitori worried about Matsuoka a lot.
Nitori didn’t understand how the boy he’d seen years and years ago, grinning so happily with his friends, could become the quiet and aloof young man who seemed to have lost all confidence in his own abilities.
Now, Nitori didn’t so much worry about finding that one place where he belonged as worry about Matsuoka never finding it again.
*
Nitori and Matsuoka did form a certain kind of truce, Nitori knowing that there were times when Matsuoka barely tolerated his company but not caring. He might not be the person Matsuoka needed, but he was there, and he would stay by Matsuoka’s side no matter what. He knew that Matsuoka got lonely sometimes and tried to fill in that loneliness with careless and simple chatter that Matsuoka can tune out if he wanted. It felt like throwing things into a vast chasm, but Matsuoka seemed to appreciate it sometimes. Matsuoka himself had started telling Nitori things about himself, brief glimpses from behind that armour that Matsuoka seemed to have formed with the onset of puberty, and Nitori began to think that maybe there was a chance they might still become friends, after all.
*
‘“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”’Nitori looked up from his textbook and at Matsuoka, who was sitting at his own desk beside Nitori’s. ‘Do you know what that means, senpai?’
Matsuoka chewed at his lower lip and thought it over. As if to stall for time, he translated the quotation in Japanese for Nitori and then, ‘I guess it means that even though we’re lowly creatures, we look for something more.’
‘Like a goal?’
‘Maybe. Or a dream.’ Closed expression on Matsuoka’s face and Nitori knew he was thinking of something else.
‘Isn’t that a good thing?’
‘Not if you don’t do anything but look.’
In some ways Nitori thought of Matsuoka as his star. Someone he could look up to and try to emulate. But that still left the distance between them, Matsuoka always remaining out of Nitori’s reach. Bright and shining and unattainable.
*
Matsuoka wasn’t lost anymore. And it felt as if he was getting farther and farther away from Nitori.
With friends who were all as brilliant as he was, what use would Matsuoka have for Nitori, who was, as ever, standing in the gutter and looking up?
Nitori tried to keep up, of course. But there was still so much to learn, the distance too great, that when he felt as if he had moved a couple of steps forward, Matsuoka had moved on as well. Nitori was resigned to the thought of always being left behind, his personal best not quite meeting up to Matsuoka’s standards, and he was getting used to the sight of Matsuoka’s back.
The important thing, as Matsuoka had said, was to think about his own strengths. Nitori might never reach the stars, but at least he was moving slowly out of the gutter.
*
‘Why don’t you come and join me?’ Matsuoka was bobbing by the side of the pool, one hand resting on the tile near Nitori’s feet.
‘Who would keep your time if I do that?’ Nitori adopted a scolding tone. Matsuoka rarely gave him a chance to adopt such an attitude where swimming was concerned, and Nitori was careful to use it whenever he can.
‘Fuck the time. Let’s see if you can keep up with me.’ Matsuoka was grinning now, the kind of smile that he seldom gave Nitori. Matsuoka didn’t carry the same sort of casual attitude around Nitori as he did with his old friends, but then again, they weren’t his underclassmen.
Nitori swallowed. The chances of him actually keeping up with Matsuoka, let alone beat him, were slimmer than the split ends of his hair. Matsuoka would never make fun of him, and Nitori wanted to swim with Matsuoka more than anything else, but it would probably be an understatement to say that the prospect scared him shitless.
‘Wouldn’t it be rude?’ he said.
‘Wouldn’t ask you if I thought it was rude, would I?’
Nitori nodded, taking his jacket off and throwing it a couple of feet from where he was standing. Matsuoka gave an irritated little huff at this, but Nitori was used to Matsuoka getting pissy about his messy habits. ‘Okay.’
*
‘Not bad.’
Nitori was glad that his face was already red from exertion. Several shades darker would not make a difference. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’ve improved much since the start of this year.’ Matsuoka was looking at him, head tilted to one side. He was still smiling, eyes catching the moonlight reflected on the surface of the water.
Nitori took a deep breath. ‘I want to be good enough to swim on the relay with you, senpai.’ He looked away from Matsuoka, fighting the urge to bury his head under the water in order to avoid Matsuoka’s gaze. ‘I don’t know if I can ever keep up. But I want to try. I might never be able to reach you, senpai, but. I—I don’t want to stay in the gutter anymore.’
Nitori was looking intently at the jacket he’d left in a crumpled heap by the poolside so he couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard Matsuoka breathe in, sharp and surprised. Nitori supposed Matsuoka had all the right to be surprised, considering how far Nitori was from his league.
‘I’m sorry. That was rude.’
Matsuoka laughed. Nitori almost swallowed a mouthful of water in surprise. ‘You fucking idiot.’
‘I’m sorry, senpai.’
Matsuoka was swimming closer, waves moving against Nitori's chest, and Nitori realised how cold it was. He jumped when he felt Matsuoka’s hand touch his own under the water, looking inquisitively at Matsuoka, half-expecting him to apologise and pull away.
‘People sometimes wish on shooting stars, you know,’ said Matsuoka.
‘They’re not actually stars, though.’ Nitori felt Matsuoka’s grip tighten as Matsuoka made a tutting sound.
‘For the sake of the metaphor,’ Matsuoka said. ‘Must you be so fucking practical?’
‘Sorry.’
‘Stop fucking apologising. You’re making me forget what I wanted to say!’
Nitori smiled. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but he thought Matsuoka was blushing. ‘You were saying something about wishing on shooting stars.’
‘Yeah.’ Matsuoka took a deep breath. ‘And you know the thing about stars.’ He was silent for several seconds, as if waiting for Nitori to say something. Nitori knew Matsuoka was just bracing himself to say whatever important thing it was about stars that Nitori should know about, so Nitori kept his mouth shut. ‘The thing about stars is that sometimes they choose to fall.’
Matsuoka raised the hand that was holding Nitori’s above the water, waving it gently about as if to emphasise his point.
‘So,’ Matsuoka said. ‘Made your wish yet?’
Nitori suddenly found it very hard to breathe. His body felt weightless, which was understandable since he was floating in the pool. Practical, indeed.
‘Yes, senpai.’