Instead he walked me back a step, and then a second, and at last a third—and then he pushed us, together, backward into the pool.
I'd never liked opening my eyes underwater. Chlorine stings and turns them red, but I braved the pain because my eyes were locked on Kurama's as water closed around us, stealing away the air and my breath alike (or maybe that was just his eyes; I could not be sure). He didn't let go as we sank into an explosion of crystal bubbles, barreling downward into warm aquamarine—and he was smiling, smiling the entire time we fell, and by the time we hit the bottom, I was smiling, too, under the light of stars shining through the water and onto us. We hit the nadir of our dive and settled onto the hard concrete much quicker than I'd like, and while I wanted to stay there, with him, for as long as I could, I hadn't had the sense to take a breath before we took the plunge. I grabbed his hand and pushed off the bottom, dragging him with me upward and back toward the light. He was laughing when we broke the surface, dark hair clinging to his face and neck in a midnight web, and as I sucked down a painful gasp of air, I splashed a handful of water at his face.