An entire orchestra, an entire brass, woodwind, strings – there was even a freaking triangle for God’s sake! How, How in God’s name, was it possible that the only song they knew was Claire de Lune?! How?! As if the song itself wasn’t haunting enough – listening to six year old Gou mangle it in every instrumental way possible ( the girl was ingenius in so many other ways, but truthfully, calling her a musician was a kindness that no composer six feet under would ever do her. ) had all but ruined it for him and left him with a very prominent cringe during the first opening chords. Honestly, he was all but certain that he had saved sound forever by having her enroll in dance. Another chill crawled its way down his spine as he swore there must still be water in his ear from the morning practice session. After all, a repreive from the overplayed elevator music was too kind wasn’t it?
As a rather opulent couple passed by the bandstand, it caught his eye – a flash of gloved digits and instantly the song changed. A smirk found it’s way on to his lips. Well played conductor. Well played. The song that had begun was one that seemed to stirr something in the back of his mind…like a moth slips through a window’s crack into the ephemeral evening did a smile geniunely curve at his lips.
This was THE song, wasn’t it? he shook his head slightly, the memories catching on the softer notes of Coldplay’s Sky Full of Stars, instrumental style, of course.
The song he’d had his first and last moment with her…Gazing up into the brilliant night sky, unspoiled by the psedo-starlight of the city’s stratosphere, the cool ocean air tickling his face under the slow roll of a moonless night’s easy ebb and flow. God, the moment had been his. His and his alone, just the two of them under their own cosmos, their own microcosm unto itself…the words were there, poised on his tongue and prying his lips into shape…
Crackle…Boom…Boom!
They say youth is wasted on the young, but he was sure that there were so many people at that moment who couldn’t have picked a better night for the Iwatobi graduating classes to celebrate with some spectacular pyrotechnics. Brilliant, blazing light celebrating the unbridled future of the young adults soaring to new heights as so many celebrated their last night of childhood…and while he couldn’t deny, a fire inside his own soul had him set on blazing his own trail through that sky…for just a moment, just the smallest space between heartbeats, he wondered…wondered what it might be like to find himself a true star of his own making, woven seamlessly into the fabric of midnight, to watch the spell cast over the unsuspecting world’s slumber, what would it be like indeed…to burn his own light into the allconsuming darkness? For the moon’s light to touch him and him alone? For the clouds to part and recognize him?
Black…
to blue…
to purple…violet…and precious pink.
Night was never meant to last, was it?
The sun would always rise, wouldn’t it? Chasing away any and all majesty of the night and giving way to the light’s first morning rays. Those greedy, creeping gold fingers clawing through the purity of the evening and drenching every inch into the most vivid, brilliant sunlight.
This was what we woke for, this was what each daybreak promised us…
and that was exactly how the world worked.
And it was this conclusion he came to, years and years ago, which made him falter long enough to watch her slip from his fingers and trail once more up into the light. It was half way between a sip of his scotch and a smirk at his lips that he caught sight of the banner hung proudly over the orchestra’s pit.
‘Reigning Olympic Champion’s 22nd Masquerade Ball:
From one Olympian to another, funding the Special Olympics one medal at a time.’
Wasn’t the sun a star, after all?
with an ever loosening red tie fitting seamlessly into his intricately framed black and red mask. The design over all a fitted cut out accentuating his angular features and highlighting the hue of his brilliant crimson eyes.
It was something the media had thrown together, the guise of goodwill, masks and sophistication a ploy to get atheletes comfortable enough talking to the press that they’d have enough gossip material to last them the year. Which, naturally, was entirely ridiculous – because if you were serious about the job, you had zero time for any kind of front page level gossip.
It was paramount to his career to keep them eating out of the palm of his hand, and Rin was all but a master of dropping just enough information to stay mysteriously infamous. It was why he was on his second scotch of the night, enough to keep him relaxed, but engaged with whatever reporter the press threw his way.
A tinkling of the rocks in his glass was his first clue that he’d slammed sharply into a slender figure on his trek to the h'ordervs table on the other side of the room. Immediately, he cringed at the impact, before allowing the blow, steadying himself instantly as he catches her arm immediatly to prevent any further incidents, he allows his empty scotch to clink softly to the red carpeted floors.
It was all the force of a frieght train that one look into those emerald eyes set him back years, all at once he was a gawky ambitious kid with a second home in the water’s depths, he was a lonely kid playing on the beach of Australia outside Russell and Lori’s house, he was a captain of the best swim team in the nation…and a gold medalist.
So, why did it feel like in fact, the woman he’d had a near collision with held more weight in his eyes than all of the gold medals he could get his hands on?
His brain screamed as he found his lungs starved for a breath, a breathless exhale of her name was all he had in him, all that his processes could piece together. The world tilting completely as he found a universe amongst a verdant sea.
❝…Makoto.❞
To say she’s stunned is an understatement but then no other word could quite describe the feeling that pins her in place, a feeling entirely born from a hauntingly familiar and ruby gaze. It’s the first thing she notices, forget the telling features like silken red tresses, a sharpened mouth, and strong angles. It’s that look, even when costumed in elegance, that says it all, conjures a bittersweet past filled to the brim with almosts and dreams. Nostalgia sparks in a single moment and burns so vividly in her mind it might as well have happened yesterday; their graduating night, a celebration made private between close friends, and then their inevitable leave as everyone saw to wishing each other good luck in a future vast approaching, steadily becoming present.
She remembers walking and talking with him--how she’d loved talking to him. He’d always been so animated about the things he held dear, so passionate it was inspiring. The flare his soul possessed, heat molten against ruby confines and announcing what he wanted, all that he’d take. It was almost enchanting in a way, almost pushed her to want to be the same. To act without restraint and dive headfirst into a world unknown, her dreams the only law and self her the only obstacle... though she supposes she’d always been her only obstacle.
She remembers how he’d urged her a final time to reconsider. Somehow he believed she’d been suited for the competitive world, that her ‘talent’ could actually take her somewhere, and she remembers almost believing him... but he was him and she was her. She couldn’t just leave it to will alone, she couldn’t blindly believe in her own ability. The fact of the matter was that even after years of training, she’d never come close to the success the two best swimmers she knew thrived on. Putting it simply, she wasn’t enough for the world he lusted for, and that was something not even his passions could change, as hypnotizing as they were... and she’d made peace with that.
So they talked about other things. They teased each other, laughed at old jokes, resurrected past memories, and under that glistening nighttime with silky moonlight overhead and shimmering stars caught in a navy throw, their teenage innocence was preserved. Two growing kids ascending into adulthood with their best; smiles and flashing eyes, warm feelings she’d felt surge just beneath the skin and burn against tan features, heart beating surprisingly calm, like the swell of waves washing onto the beach. He could have been the water, unknown and powerful, and she the sand, stationary and soft, and together they could have been that soothing border where two worlds blend to create--
But she’d always been afraid of the water.
❝... Rin.❞ She exhales, finally crashing down to reality. Rin--when had she last seen him? They’d kept in contact for awhile after going their separate ways, she’d been sure to see a few of his races at the beginning, but as time went on their respective paths drifted further and further apart. Where she’d hear from him in phone calls or texts slowly became passing blurbs from newsmen and articles.
And god, it wasn’t until this very moment, caught in the light of his presence, that she hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed him.
❝Oh my god, Rin!❞ Comes her smile, genuinely bright because it’s him. And there’s a bubble of soft laughter that tickles her throat, and she wants to hug him hello because it’s been years but she finds the strength to refrain. ❝Wow, I can’t believe it, I mean thinking about it it makes sense that you’re here, but--❞ She’s quick to stop herself, internally grimacing at her rambling before amending her blabber with a warm laugh. ❝--I’m sorry, how are you? I didn’t ruin anything on you, did I?❞ It’s then that she remembers she’d stupidly crashed into the poor guy, her slightly furrowed gaze assessing him for any collateral damage.
It’s not her preferred type of thing. Most knew her to be the definition of a ‘ social butterfly, ’ and though she often times did lean towards this definition, the fact of the matter was that blown out parties, like the one she currently found herself locked in, weren’t exactly exciting to her tastes. Finger foods, obnoxious attire, and honestly boring conversations revolving around who’s succeeding where and idle gossip, just hadn’t ever appealed. Maybe it was her ‘ small town ’ side, maybe Iwatobi had forever spoiled her in actually fun festivals and get-togethers, with actually real friends, and then real conversations that always dissolved in healing laughter, all those years back...
She’s quick to bat the thought away. The truth was, no matter what it was that had made for this distaste with Tokyo’s glamorized script, she was found in it. And being found in it meant playing her roles obediently, as was her track record. Especially when she’d inflicted this present on herself, when she’d traded the comforts of a warm seaside town for this charmed city life--! Her nose wrinkles slightly at the melodrama of her own thoughts. Honestly, you have it so good, she’s quick to think; a growing journalist for one of the most respected magazines in the city. Sure the job could get demanding ( especially where PR and its parties were concerned ) but at the end of the day it provided damn well. Surely she’d grow out of her nostalgia soon enough.
Shaking her head as if to mentally reset herself, she heads out over towards the refreshment table to grab a drink. Seeming almost natural to her nature, being so lost in her own train of thought, she doesn’t notice the figure she’s walking into till it’s a tad to late--
❝Ah,❞ she starts, pulling back immediately with a faint blush partially hidden behind a black lace mask--yeah, PR also liked going all out with their party themes too, tonight’s being ‘ masquerade. ’
❝I’m so sorry,❞ she adds once looking up;
❝I wasn’t paying attention--❞ Her words stop suddenly, and she’s not sure why but that previous nostalgia rushes back with a nearly dizzying force.
мαкσтσ нα∂ αяяινє∂ иσт ℓσиg ago. The dolphin couldn’t necessarily recall the last time the two of them shared each other’s company like this. Tokyo was nothing like Iwatobi–it was large, bustling, crowded… there was no lie that he felt out of place upon his first few weeks, months even, before he finally found himself settled and accustomed ( still, Tokyo would never replace Iwatobi as his true home ). But things were a little more tolerable knowing his best friend was in the same city. Perhaps a тяαιи яι∂є away, but within the same city nonetheless.
However, lately they’ve been spending less and less time together, seeing as school has preoccupied their lives more than they may have wished. So upon reaching a vacancy in their schedules, the two had made plans once they were certain there was no other plans upcoming.
ℓσσкιиg σνєя нιѕ ѕнσυℓ∂єя ωнєяє he sat by his kotatsu, his brows seem to furrow slightly by the mention of it. ❝ I bought some yesterday. ❞ Was his line of defense in response to her remark ( Not that he was being defensive or anything… ). It was true too. As much as he would have loved to remain closely loyal to his consistent-mackerel-diet, the coaches of his university swim team begged to differ–emphasizing the ιмρσятαиcє of variation in his meals. Back in high school, it was easier to weasel in a meal or two ( or all ) with mackerel. But, swimming here was far more demanding; if his time made any unfavourable differences even by the мιℓℓιѕєcσи∂ѕ, said coaches would be on him almost instantly. It reached a point once where even Haruka felt intimidated by it, but now, being so much more use to it–it was nothing short of annoying. Thus, didn’t leave him much of a choice. It was the only way of keeping them off his back.
αт ℓєαѕт иσω ωιтн α slim window of a break, he could indulge himself as much as he pleased. Surely he could bounce right back up afterward.
He absolutely refused to let Makoto ruin it for him.
His response captures her full attention, bringing a curious and emerald gaze over towards him as she shifts to lean against the kitchen counter, her earlier quest for snacking momentarily forgotten. To the untrained ear those words might’ve seemed simple enough, if not entirely dismissive, but in actuality they’d been very telling--especially when coupled with that defensive tone. If she had to guess he was probably going through something of a ‘mackerel withdrawal,’ likely induced by a coach. There’s just no other way he’d give it up, she thinks, maybe just a little bit amused with the situation as seen by the twitch at her lips, which she’s quick to fix after a second.
❝They cracked down on you, didn’t they?❞ She then voices her suspicions, doing her best to seem respectfully mournful. This was probably one of the few, and absolute best, perks of having quit competitive swimming. There wasn’t a soul alive who could dictate her meals, no accusing finger deciding that there simply wasn’t enough ‘green’ in her ‘palette,’ or that desserts should be limited to half the usual portion--the triumph she feels at having a full slice of chocolate cake nowadays is surreal. With that thought she moves to finish up and collect the tea she’d been making on the side ( her only true success where the culinary arts were concerned ) and heads out to take a seat across from him at the kotatsu.
❝How is training going, by the way?❞ She asks, passing him a cup.
« ✘ » ❝ Then I guess we’re lucky a blind man could see it, huh? ❞ He murmurs softly, tilting his head to meet her gaze full on, fingertips teasing over the blush. His voice soft as he speaks. ❝ Besides, I’m not the one who has glasses. Trust me. ❞
The red tinting her cheeks darkens at his sudden caress, and she swears she feels her heart flutter against the walls of her chest; by all intents and purposes she should be pulling away. Instead she settles for a shift of the head though, breaking the contact of his fingers tips but still remaining within his reach. Some sort of subconscious comprise between the mind and heart.
❝You might want to be a little careful,❞ she begins with a tease, successfully regaining composure; ❝your sweet side’s showing...❞ sweet but still ridiculous, she thinks.
✿┇Honest. That was the first word that came to the former-LRIG’s mind, a gentle smile slipping on her face; she could handle this kind of human. Ah, but she herself was one too now … so perhaps mentally calling them as such was a bad thing. “Well, the same goes for me. I’d be really worried if I had hurt a complete stranger.” Embarrassed? Probably?
Gold eyes widened slightly before she gave a small hum; no injury whatsoever? If it were Suzu, she would surely have a scrap or perhaps even a bruise on her. Or maybe it’s just because Suzu is … that frail? “You must have quite the physique. Normal people would have fallen due to speed and force.”
The compliment elicits a soft blush, self-consciousness having always weighed heavy in her mind due to the nature of her stature. Being a six foot girl with a considerably strong physique, she’d always stood out against her peers--both girls and boys. But hey, as mentioned earlier, it definitely had its perks every now and again. Specifically when trying to reach certain objects off of high shelves, and then handling trips like the one she’d taken just now.
❝Ah, yeah,❞ she begins, ❝I guess I’m a little guilty of being a gym-a-holic.❞ It was a good outlet, if nothing else.
Admittedly, it’d been a long while since she’d had proper time with Haru. Despite having moved to the same city after graduation and having remained in a close proximity, their individual career paths had seen to keeping the two (or at the least herself) distant. Suffice it to say that college work had proved to be far more demanding than Amakata’s. In an attempt to mend this though, the brunette had worked to match their schedules for a weekend. The novelty to Tokyo had been great at the start, the sights new and refreshing with their glitter and charm, but as the days turned to weeks and time did its rounds... the need for familiarity had grown intolerable.
This finds her rummaging about his kitchen on a cool Saturday afternoon, displaying the same ease she’d had in Iwatobi, searching for anything that could provide for a midday snack. Upon curious inspection of his fridge, she stops suddenly at a very damned familiar sight--
❝... Mackerel?❞ She wonders, trying to figure out the last time she’d had it when it had compromised nearly 55% of her high school diet, and then... A warm laugh slips past her and she adds; ❝Unbelievable. You’re in one of the top cities of the world, and it’s still mackerel, hm?❞
so i’m gonna be lurking around here today, i’ll get to whatever i owe and probably work on a verses page bc i am in dire need of one B) if anyone’s interested in a starter go ahead and shoot a heart this way ✌
on that note, i hope everyone had/is having a good new years! 🎉🎊🎉
✿┇Crowded areas weren’t a place that she liked to wander around, especially with how many times she had bumped into people. As a LRIG, she didn’t need to go through this, it was normally Chi-chan who did. She was just there for the ride. Now though? She’s a human meaning … she has to deal what Chi-chan and Suzu did. At least she was always able to keep her balance and that the force wasn’t that great enough to actually knock her over.
«Thank you Berserk ability~»
“Ara?” Golden eyes blinked when a sudden push caused her to stumble, quickly spinning around and stepping back from another human. Oh dear, looks like someone was in a rush. Though … she was surprised, she wasn’t expecting to stumble. “Ah, I’m fine. Though … what about you? Are you alright?”
«Suzu would always ask the other whether or not they were alright. And since Suzu did that, Mel copied»
❝That’s a relief,❞ she answers, smile reflecting the genuine note underlying her tone once she receives a reply, her immediate dread subsiding and taking with it her earlier rush--classes can wait, right? ❝I don’t think I could have lived with myself, running you over like that...❞ she then tacks on in a hint of a tease, though her words do bend apologetically towards the end; honestly, she could do with being more careful. As she’s brought into question she’s quick to wave a dismissive hand; ❝I’m fine,❞ and it wasn’t a lie either. The plus side to being athletically inclined? Amazing endurance.
She’s so late. For a second she berates herself for having stayed up as late as she did the night before, but the thought is short lived as she doesn’t even have the time to dwell; ‘keep moving’ she thinks, politely maneuvering past the cluster of people she’s currently found stumbling in. It was still so strange, the city’s vastness as compared to the small hometown she was so used too; quiet serenity by an endless seaside pitted against bustling action amongst blinding skyscrapers. Suffice it to say that ‘a fish out of water’ was putting it mildly. It’s in this nostalgia that she looses track of where she’s going though, and by the time she’s realized it it’s to late--
❝ --! ❞ The crash course is inevitable and so she stumbles into a passing girl before her reflexes can manage a stop, enticing a dreadful trip; cue her absolute horror at being so brainless and clumsy. Collecting herself quickly, she turns in sincere concern to assess the well being of her accidental victim. ❝Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you--are you okay?❞
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