Afterthoughts

Author: Pixelated Optimism

Things that are better left unsaid.

Makoto Tachibana liked to think that his being the mother hen of Iwatobi was pretty harmless, and for the entire world knew, or at least the swim club members knew, it was only inevitable, as he was the captain (considering that rather hasty decision he and Nagisa came up when they were cornered with the idea of Haru having the zeal as an imaginary captain himself).

Far from what Nagisa had in mind, Makoto didn't think he was reliable enough. Since they were kids, he always considered himself someone who went with the flow. He wasn't like Rin, who was brimming with confidence, or Haru, who had this air of keeping his cool, and he was far from Mikoshiba-buchou, whom he once thought was born because Samezuka needed a superb captain. He was the captain because he can talk to people. And leaders are supposed to be the tallest; Nagisa according to Nagisa which made Haru scoff and Rei look at the top of his head and Gou hide a chuckle behind her fist.

And maybe because they didn't have any other pretty options left, that is.

Honesty, Gou does better in the parenting department sometimes.

So Makoto does what he thinks he does best, and that is to become a ruffled arbitrator of everything; when Haru strips down for a fountain, when Nagisa goes too far teasing Rei, when Gou cannot resist ogling at half-naked men, when Rin acts harshly, Makoto Tachibana was always in between.

At first he thought it was pretty easy. After all, he spent a long time playing big brother to Ran and Ren. Kami-sama must have given him enough experience to survive out there. But becoming a captain was far different from being a big brother. It demands more than brotherly attention, and as what he realized soon after, it equates on becoming a full-pledged parent, and since Haru was still far from morphing into being an ideal vice-captain, Makoto bears his suffering down and smiles.

He wasn't on the right position to complain. At least that's what he makes himself believe. As long as he could swim with Nagisa and Rei and Haru, Makoto would do anything.

Even bite off that strange urge that stuck him that fine morning.

It was a typical practice day. Iwatobi habit includes Nagisa weaving his own mayhem against Rei by splashing water and announcing a tsunami, and Rei creating some ruckus as to how the waves were not proportionally beautiful and Haru glaring at them indifferently.

Very normal. Monotonous, in fact.

Until she broke his hell loose.

Makoto would've been the last person to be caught lying. And if there was one thing he was proud of himself for, it was his honesty and as Haru liked to add, his denseness as well.

Not that he liked being tagged as someone dense, but denseness had wormed him out of a lot of things somehow, and the wonder of it was that all he did was to be himself. Maybe Haru was right. He might have been too dense to even realize that he was indeed dense. But no matter, he didn't really mind.

When Haru asked what was disturbing him, Makoto tried his best to act cool and submerged his hot face on the cool water.

"N-Nothing."

Damn.

Makoto never knew a simple innocent whistle would be the end of him.

She strolled towards them, her handy clipboard at hand, her whistle dangling on her neck, bouncing up and down her chest. Nagisa stopped whatever he was doing and whistled, cooing Rei that another bad omen is about to come. Sure enough, the last time she wore it, Gou had all taken them out in the sea, and they were nearly killed.

"Don't tell me you've found another training regimen from hell?" groaned Rei when at last, she stood before them in all her glory.

"No." she shook her head. "I didn't find another regimen, because I made one!"

They all shared petrified faces. Thickly followed by silence, then as if on cue they all blurted out in unison.

"Gou-chan's going to kill us—"

"Gou-san, I know that the tourname—"

"I'd like to be free—"

She raised her hand in the air and everyone fell silent.

"No sea involved!" she snapped "But Sasabe-san's more than willing to lend his pool on Saturday, not to mention that I arranged joint practices with Samezuka, and seriously guys what is wrong with the sea?"

Rei twitched and found his googles very interesting. Haru blew a fringe splayed on his forehead. Nagisa nibbled his kick board and Makoto tried to pry his gaze off the damn whistle.

It was a normal whistle, bright orange, just the right size, something Coach Sasabe must've given to Gou since she was a manager. It proved very useful every time they were being reprimanded or being encouraged.

It was a handy little whistle.

She moved. The damn whistle bounced, bounded on the left before resting on the little gap her hakama accentuated.

She moved again, and the whistle bounded to the right before returning to the gap, and Makoto had to bite his cheek at the thought of her wearing nothing but the orange whistle, blowing—

He realized she was already finished explaining her own devised training regimen when she turned at him, titled her head and said "What do you think, Makoto-senpai?"

It was only proper to look at her face in this situation, but instead he gave a little nod, a nervous squeak and said they better talk the matter after swimming practice. Everybody agreed. She beamed at him before her hand crawled its way on her chest, took the whistle and blew it hard.

Warmth pooled in his cheek and his abdomen.

He outran Haru in the pool that day.

I would buy time if I could.

Late updates coming your way o(. n .)o

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