The Ocean We Left Behind

Chapter 2

Haruka's P.O.V:

I don't remember much of the ritual I performed on Ren; the memories were hazy and unpleasant. Instead, I focused on my art project that I had been given to complete over the Christmas break. Splashes of blue, grey, and black were splattered around the cloth-covered spare room upstairs - the proof of my hard work.

In the middle of the room stood my soon-to-be masterpiece; a giant canvas that took up at least a third of the room's length. Makoto would probably scold me for my choice of model, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't get the image out of my head; I knew what I wanted to paint from the start.

After spending at least a quarter of the day swimming, as I do everyday, I had decided to work on it a little more. There was something strangely peaceful about having complete control over the image on the canvas - you could turn it into absolutely anything you desired, whether it was still life or a complete work of fiction, it didn't matter - art is truly beautiful. Of course it could never compare to the feel of water gliding against my skin or over my scales, but it was definitely second in line.

The ringing of my dormant mobile brought me out of my paint-induced stupor.

"Hello?" I answered after cleaning my hands on a piece of clean cloth.

"Haru-chan, would you like to spend Christmas with us tomorrow? I heard that your parents will be home a day late." Ah, yes. My parents had been given instructions to call Makoto concerning important affairs, because apparently I'm too preoccupied by the pool to answer the phone. Not that it wasn't the truth, I just didn't like that my parents barely ever spoke to me.

"What time do you want me there by?" I asked.

"Oh, um, is 10 o'clock good for you?"

"That's fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait! Wait!" I put the phone back to my ear. "Can I come and see you today?"

I made a small noise of amusement, "Did you even need to ask?"

He chuckled in relief on the other end. "Okay, I'll only be a little while."

I clicked the "End Call" button and placed the phone back on the side table by the door. Maybe it would be best to clean up before he got here; I didn't want him to see the painting just yet.

After I'd carefully tidied the room and locked the door, I noticed that I had paint splashes from my hands all the way up to the biceps and all over my chest and thighs, so I made my way to the bathroom to wash the splatters from my skin before stripping off my dirty clothes in favor of some new clean ones.

It was then that I heard the front door close: an indicator that Makoto had arrived.

"Haru-chan?" He called as his heavy footsteps plodded to the bottom of the stairs. His hair was disheveled and his clothes were soaked through, "It started pouring down before I could get here, do you still have those clothes of mine?"

I shook my head at how air-headed he could be sometimes, I bet he didn't even check to see if it was going to rain, "No," I told him. "You wore them home last time you slept here."

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I guess I'll have to wait for my clothes to dry then."

I felt my heart flutter a little when I realised Mako would have to walk around the house in his underwear, well that is, if they weren't wet too. Then an idea struck me. "Take your clothes off and leave them on the radiator. I'll meet you at the pool."

"Ah, but Haru-"

I ignored his protests and began to lose each item of my clothing on the way to the back of the house: first it was my freshly adorned t-shirt, then my baggy sweatpants, and as I approached the door I tossed away my boxers too. There was no doubt that Makoto would pick them up anyway.

I enjoyed the freedom that came with switching back to my natural form. It was a feeling like no other, and as I let the change take over me when I dived in, all of my worries melted away.

As much as Makoto disliked changing, I knew he would join me without any further prompting; he enjoyed the freedom too, even though he would completely deny it if you asked. He doesn't need to confirm it, because I can see through his relaxed body language that he is almost identical to me. He can't resist feeling that freedom.

So as his body glided through the air, breaching the surface as gracefully as I had expected, it was obvious that he felt the water gently soothe the stress from his taut muscles. Immersing myself in the water, I allowed myself to see his deep green eyes, piercing through the water as he adjusted to the familiar feel of liquid passing over the gills either side of his neck.

I could stay like this all day, just watching him watching me, and I would have done if his beaming grin hadn't shaken me from my trance. With a flick of his large, whale-like tail, he was propelling and twirling towards me. I felt his touch sooner than I saw it.

And so, we played. Just like dolphins or whales would play in the oceans, because that's what we are, aren't we? Marine life, so to speak.

I remember when we were young: our school took us on a trip to the aquarium. Even back then, I had a deep affiliation with the water, and I wanted nothing more than to swim beside those fish. Though, the need was easy to bottle up when it came to the smaller tanks.

The bigger tanks however, caused me a huge problem.

"Mako," I had said, tugging on his hand when the class stood to watch the sea lions, "Look."

My small hand pointed to a large tank that curved around the walkway, it was a deep blue and was filled with very few plants and corals. The sign that showed information about the tank clearly said, "Dolphins".

The worried look that had passed over Makoto's face did not go unnoticed and I squeezed his hand to reassure him that I was okay, I wasn't going to try it this time. For now anyway; there were no dolphins in sight.

I watched the sun's rays glitter and waver through the water from the surface far above us, and we stood in a comfortable silence as we watched a tiny dead fish flutter to the sand. Suddenly, with lightning fast movements, two dolphins swam out to gobble up the little fish. They were beautiful. Their skin glistened and their bodies glided effortlessly through the watery depths of the enormous tank.

But the one on the left was faster, and it snatched up its meal with its long pointed jaws, and swallowed it all in one go. The other dolphin was left looking rather dejected as it swam close to the glass.

At first it seemed like it would just swim on by, but a change of heart seemed to befall it and the elegant beast turned and swam back to where Mako and I stood, hand-in-hand outside the glass.

I gripped his hand harder and lurched forward to press the palm of my other hand flat against the cool surface.

The dolphin did not look scared by my sudden action - in fact, it rather welcomed it. If I remember right, we had a wonderful time entertaining the lone dolphin; none of the other dolphins came to greet us.

Then came the time to leave.

I had stubbornly refused to leave my new friend behind, and Makoto had panicked to reassure the teacher that I was "just being silly" and that I "really liked dolphins". I don't see why he reacted that way, maybe he thought I was going to start saying more than was necessary.

Eventually, Makoto had promised to swim with me for a whole day if I agreed to leave; that was what finally persuaded me to go.

Seeing him like this now, in the form that we had swam in the whole of that next day, I felt the familiar warmth spread through my body: the warmth that had lead me to realise my feelings for Makoto ran far further than they should.

"Swim with me." I mouthed as we circled each other.

His answering smile was more than enough, and it's safe to say that my Christmas Eve was well spent.