Learning To Fly: A Saki Enomoto Pseudo-Route

Countdown :: The Life Aquatic

Standing in front of the mirror, looking at myself, I'm still not entirely sure how I got talked into this.

The room is typical of what I imagine most locker rooms are like. It's fairly small, a little larger than the size of one of Yamaku's normal restrooms but much smaller than the one on my floor in the dorm. There's two standard stalls, two showers, and the row of sinks along one wall. The lighting always seems to be perpetually dim, despite the glare of the fluorescent tubing. The floor is made up of tiles which always feel damp. They constantly feel cold against bare feet, until you step on one of the several metal grates spread around and realize how cold the floor reallyis.

There's also the smell. It's a musty mixture of chlorine, disinfectant, and moisture. You never find that smell anywhere else.

One wall has a bank of lockers, about half of which have locks on them. I found one that was unused, and stored the clothes I had changed out of when I came here.

Nurse and Saki both seemed right about not many people using the pool this time of day. I haven't seen anyone in the men's locker room. The only sound is the loud hum of an exhaust fan somewhere in the ceiling.

So here I stand, in my standard track outfit. Red shorts that don't even come down to mid thigh, and a white ringer shirt edged with red. The last time I wore this, it didn't go so well.

Towel slung over my shoulder, hair still a mess, I have to admit it; I look kind of ridiculous.

Part of me wants to just blow this off. But I did make a promise to Nurse, and when it comes to him, I have the feeling that the walls have eyes. I wouldn't be surprised if he knows everything that happens in this school. He may have spotted me at the festival himself, but I'm not taking any chances.

Besides, the sleeping pills did help me last night. I didn't get any more sleep than I usually do, but the quality of the sleep improved. There's still a few cobwebs in my head, but I'm sure those will clear the second I hit the water.

Steeling myself, I walk down the short hallway and down half a dozen stairs into the pool room. The walls open around me, and I get my first look at the area.

The room is rather large, probably about four to five times the size of my classroom. Painted cinder-block walls brace up several wide windows near the roof, letting in enough natural light to soften the harsh tones of the ever-present artificial glow from the fixtures over my head.

The pool itself fills most of the room, dark tile lines designating lanes across the blue bottom. Stairs on one end are bracketed by silver handrails, and the other end has some sort of strange contraption with a plastic seat attached to a bunch of hydraulics. It doesn't seem that deep, only about a meter and a half or so. There's also a small hot tub behind it near the wall.

I never went to many pools as a kid, but this pool looks like it's designed more for swimming laps. I guess it would be a very bad thing if the students that used it couldn't touch the bottom. I get a mental image of Emi trying to tread water and I snicker before I can help myself.

I'm the only one here at the moment. I know Saki comes here in the mornings since I've run into her a few times on her way back, but right now the time is a bit later than when we've met up, so I assume I already missed her.

It's not like I'm avoiding her for this. I didn't see her yesterday after my appointment with Nurse, but...

I look down to my shirt, pinching the fabric over my scar and pulling it out away from me. This stretches the neck out far enough where I can see the ugly raised scar that invades the surrounding skin.

I'm not sure I want to even take the shirt off yet. It may seem silly when you're swimming by yourself, but there's no guarantee that someone couldn't be walking in. And then it would seem even more strange to be seen by someone swimming by myself with my gym shirt on.

I sigh. No. Not yet. I can't do it yet.

I make my way down to the stairs and place my towel on a hook fastened into the wall for that very purpose. Turning to face the water, I place my hand on one of the railings and dip my foot in.

It's cool. Not cold, but cool. Any colder and it would send a shiver up my spine, but this...this is nice.

I slowly take a few steps in the pool, the water rising up my calves, knees, thighs...

Uh-oh.

As soon as the water hits the bottom of my shorts, I realize that I've made a horrible mistake. The fabric soaks up water almost as fast as I can blink, the coldness marching up my thighs all the way to my waistband. The entire shorts are soaked and I've only barely dipped them a few centimeters into the water.

That's not the worst part though. The worst part is that when the fabric becomes wet, it becomes clingy. Swim trunks have netting that...holds everything in place. Gym shorts...do not. And given that I treated these as swim trunks and didn't wear anything underneath...

Yeah. There's more than one reason I'm glad I'm the only one here.

Let's get this over with.

I swiftly half-fall, half-leap forward into the water, submerging myself completely and kicking off towards the far end of the pool. I'm down near the bottom, completely weightless as I propel myself forward, the surface of the water above me refracting light as the ripples from my entry spread out ahead of me.

I try to see if I can make it all the way to the other end of the pool. No chance. I shoot towards the surface, breaking clean and taking in a few huge gulps of air. I brush my hair back out of my face, and notice with shock that I didn't even make it halfway through the pool. With my feet on the bottom, the water comes up to my chest, and I can feel how heavy the shirt is once it's soaked.

I could blame that pitiful swim on the weight and drag, but deep down, I know that's not the case.

I let my legs go slack and I sink deeper into the water until I'm treading it. I could just float like this for a while, but the clock on the wall says that I don't have much time before I have to leave. I should probably do a few laps and ease into it. At least with the track I had Emi to guide me. Here, I'm on my own.

How hard can it be? I've seen it enough whenever the Olympics are on.

With another breath, I continue splashing down the length of the pool in what I hope is decent form like what I've seen on television. My arms windmill and push me forward, my legs kicking in time behind me. In what seems like no time at all, my hand slaps the concrete at the edge of the pool with a sting, causing me to turn around and push off the wall. I make the journey back, the bellows of my breathing the only sound in my waterlogged ears.

Keep at it.

One full lap. Let's go for another.

...

Two full laps. My lungs are burning from the effort. This is harder than I thought it would be, but this time I can pace myself instead of trying to race someone.

...

Three laps. Am I starting to get this tired already?

...

Four laps, and I'm already breathing almost as hard as I was on my run with Emi. I come to a stop and place a hand on my chest. My heart is beating faster and harder, but it's steady. Any more than this though, and I'd be pushing it.

That should be enough, at least for now. Maybe if I come back later in the week, I can do a few more.

I stretch out on my back and float on the surface, feeling my heartbeat slowly return to normal as my body relaxes. This is so much better than running. When you get tired, you don't have to hold up the weight of your body or worry about overheating. There's a lot more prep work than with running, since you have to have a set of clothes merely to get from the dorm to the pool, unless you change into your school uniform in the locker room. Plus you'd have to carry everything you need to take a shower like soap and-

"Hisao? Is that you?"