Kisumi was far morecompetitive than Haru. Of course, anyone compared to Haru would probably beconsidered very competitive. But Kisumi was the one that pushed harder, cheered louder, and tried to attain any and every goal that he set for himself. He wasn’t mean about it, no (at least, he didn’t think so) but he saw competition everywhere. People like Haru, so set on one thing and uncaring about any challenge waiting for him, would just drift along. Kisumi was the one that loved the thrill of swimming against the current and—wait, was he making water metaphors all of a sudden? Geez, maybe Haru was already rubbing off on him… “As long as you get to swim, right? I mean, it’s definitely not bad that you’re so passionate about it! It’s good to have a passion.” Some people might argue that basketball was Kisumi’s passion, but… Well, he probably would never consider going pro, nor did he likely possess the innate skill that Haru had for swimming.
The venom-laced chill of his words do right in shutting him up. There’s always a weird sensitivity when things come around to Makoto, so he chooses to tip-toe around the battlefield instead. “You do, you do. You guys have been friends forever.” And there’s something about that last part that implies that the conversation is over, but he hurdles on, jumping over the dangerous line that he probably shouldn’t cross. “You’re so cold, Haru! Why don’t you have Makoto meet us at the pool? We can all hang out then!”
{ ✦ } » — Although he would never admit to it, it was true that once upon a time, the two boys had been quite close. Some might even say that they were extremely close. But that was in the past. Times changed and so did they, an aspect that Haru had been very content with accepting. And yet, his exuberant companion seemed as resilient as ever, be it because he refused to accept those bridges had been burned, or because he had yet to realize the current state of things. Whatever the reasoning, it didn’t seem to deter his unwanted attempts at reforging their past friendship. Had the freestyle swimmer not made it obvious enough that he preferred maintaining that distance? Apparently not. His tone remains as cool as the water he does so enjoy when he reluctantly responds at last. “I guess that’s one way to think of it.” Though, to be honest, he didn’t understand why everyone always tried so hard to slap a label on his reason for swimming when it was just second nature to him.
A sensation akin to pride swells in his chest when the harsh reality of his words seem to strike his opponent silent. And of course it was true, there wasn’t a soul alive who was unaware of how virtually inseparable the two childhood friends remained. Rather than elaborate on the obvious, though, Haru provides a simple nod of his head. However, not even a moment later, his frame stiffens in response to the (what most would consider) reasonable suggestion. His brow furrows, a frown visible for a fraction of an instant before he finds himself takings off ahead of Kisumi. “Sorry, I can’t. I don’t carry my cellphone around with me.”
