On The Wing

Entry No. 23 - December 14th

It’s funny. I’ve never had such a problem up until the past few weeks. To maintain my focus is a necessity, and so to be incapable of doing so is distressing, to say the least. I’ve tried to develop many hypotheses, much like I initially began to formulate reasons for my lack of buoyancy in the water; however so far I cannot determine a single factor that could have caused my problem.

 That, in part is why I have decided to recap on the past month so that I can clearly see if there was a definitive change that might have caused my focus to deteriorate. That is – if the problem was caused by a change at all. I will start at the point where I was first approached by Hazuki Nagisa, a first year at Iwatobi High, to participate in the swim team. Hazuki is persistent. I despise him, at first. Because he just won’t give up. I have no intention of joining at this point, because I have several other commitments, and on a psychological level, I don’t want to give Hazuki the satisfaction and partake in any sport that involves someone as fickle and irritating as him. It’s a week before I actually begin to logically process the request. Up until that point, my decision is mostly based on my perception of the first year and the ideology that swimming - a vile, ugly sport – holds no place for a skilled and precise athlete such as myself. He offers to show me what he means when he says ‘swimming is beautiful’, and out of personal curiosity, I agree on the condition that he will leave me alone after I decline once more.

However, I then meet the famed Nanase Haruka. On the surface, he seems to be Hazuki’s opposite. He is reserved and complacent. I cannot deny the fact that his personality is intriguing, even out of the water, but then when he completes what I can only describe as the most perfect dive I’ve ever witnessed; and cuts the water like a knife, I’m awestruck. Hazuki had not been lying, because Nanase was beautiful.

 Unlike any other athletic sport, swimming can hold beauty, and unlike track - or pole vaulting for that matter – it lacks the same sweaty, undignified exhaustion. When I first saw Haruka swim, I had immediate desire to replicate such motion. I join, of course, and begin training. What happens next does not need to be repeated – let it just be said that it most definitely was not beautiful, and included drastic failings. After some time struggling with lack of ability – I prevailed, and am now a swimmer of the ‘butterfly’ stroke, and of decent potential.

 

However, none of this seems to explain my current symptoms. The swim team hasn’t impacted my life thus far, even during the challenging transition process, I was still able to focus. Even when the emotional conflict arose between Nanase and Matsouka Rin, and I gave up my position on the team so that the four could reconnect, I was still able to find comfort in my books and studies. So why now, why -

 The journal entry is cut off as Rei’s phone buzzes noisily against his hardwood desk. Honestly? Who was calling at this hour? The navy haired teen felt his stomach drop as the caller ID lit up the screen. Of course. Nagisa.

 “Hello? Nagisa? Do you know how late it is?” Rei whispers, not wanting to disturb his parents, who are most likely asleep. “What do you need?”

 A giggle on the end of the line causes Rei to roll his eyes. One would think that by now, he’d have had the sense to give up with Hazuki and his antics. It was perfectly illogical to put himself through such mental strain for a friendship that saw no real physical benefits for him.

 “Rei-Chan! Check it out, look out of your window!” Another giggle follows and Rei swallows thickly, getting up from his seat and gingerly parting his blinds. The sight before him makes him practically gasp. Standing there, in the freezing cold, waving manically and pointing exaggeratedly to what seems to be a picnic basket is none other than his teammate and comparable personal poltergeist: Nagisa.