Growing up as a social person, Sora Suzuki was surrounded by love and affection- even from the most random people. Tender strokes, gentle kisses. Love came to him in the form of five unique beings, and damn, he's in deep. But when shit happens, and...
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MAY THIRD, TWO THOUSAND AND TWELVE
10:22 in the morning
ENTERING THE PRIVATE GROUNDS, whispers carrying his name broke through. Recognition flitted through peoples' minds, smiles curving at their lips and greeting standing on the tip of their tongues.
"Hi, Suzuki-kun!"
"Long time no see!"
"Good to see you!"
Sora returned the actions, smiling politely and greeting them with waves. He made his way through the large campus, memories rising to the surface of his mind. Ah, it had been a long time since he had entered Shiratorizawa.
Stepping inside the indoor pool, Sora was immediately welcomed with broad grins.
"Sora-senpai! You're back!"
His old teammates rushed over to him, buzzing with delight upon seeing the best swimmer Shiratorizawa had ever had— and no, it was not an understatement. Sora Suzuki was an international teenage swimmer; of course, he was one of the best, if not the best.
"Hi, guys," he greeted, dumping his bag onto the elongated bench laying behind the multiple white and purple shaded diving blocks.
"We've missed you! I still can't believe you transferred," whined Yuuma Nanase, a second-year at Shiratorizawa. He flailed his arms around, a pout tugging at his bottom lip.
"To Karasuno of all places," Taichi Junto added, another second-year Sora had helped train a year before, though they were in their first year of high school, and he was in his second at the time.
Sora laughed, "I told you, I transferred because—"
"Yes, yes," the group chorused. "Your soulmate went there. We know."
Amusement flowed through his veins, and Sora stared at his old team with raised brows and an entertained expression plastered onto his face.
"Come on, then, Sor'!" exclaimed his old classmate, Masahirou Fuju, slamming his hand onto the taller's back. "Get changed, and let's have a friendly competition. I want to see if you're still as fast as you were."
"I'll still beat you in a race," Sora informed matter-of-factly.
Mashirou cackled, "I'd like to see you try! I've decreased my time since you've left."
Changing into his swimsuit, snapping on his cap and goggles, diving into the cool, refreshing liquid, pushing his body to the limits in order to reign victory over his former teammates— Sora had missed all of those.
He relished in the way the pool's waves caressed his skin, brushing against him as he moved through. He submersed himself under; he wanted to feel the water. With his skin, his eyes, his soul. Doubt never filled his mind as he swam; he believed in himself. He didn't resist the water; he welcomed it. They accepted one another. For there were secrets Sora loathed to remember, a sweetness he rued to forget, and under the water, he disregarded them all: the grey eyes and the warm smile.
