Great Waves (Rin)

Great Waves



The pungent smell of chlorine hits me almost as hard as the wave of heat that washes over us as we walk through the doors. This is the first time I've been to the school's pool, and I was just a kid the last time I visited one in my home city. But the humid, thick air, the light reflecting off the water and the rough, slip-proof flooring all combine to make me feel just like I did back then. I remember diving with my friends, seeing who could race eachother to the other end of the pool first, walking out into the night air, skin still flush and alive with the heat from inside. Back before Yamaku, when I was just a normal kid, living a normal life.
The pair of murky green eyes staring at me to my left drag me out of my mind by their presence alone. Turning to face their owner, I'm reminded that my new life here isn't so bad at all. Rin stands there, completely still, staring at me as if politely waiting for me to return reality. Although I can never guess what's going on in her mind, so she could be wondering if snails can swim for all I know.
I guess that would be kind of difficult, for a snail to swim. Their shell would float so--wait, what am I doing?
“Have you been here before?” I ask, desperate to break the silence and the snails.
Rin nods matter-of-factly.
“A few times, with Emi.” Her gaze wanders around the room slowly, from either end of the pool, to the adjoining shower rooms for male and female students, then finally to the line of high windows across the wall, which bathe the room in sunshine.
“Do you, uh, want to swim?” This whole trip to the pool had been her idea, something about seeing the water and the way it reflects the sky for one of her paintings. But once again, our circumstances place me in a bit of a landmine. I take in the sight of Rin, standing there, absorbing the sunlight as if she was a plant, dressed in her boy's school uniform with a bag of what I presumed to be art supplies slung around her neck. Can she swim? I guess Emi would be able too without that much trouble, but Rin... I try to imagine swimming without the use of arms at all. It seems like it would be difficult, like I might sink. Maybe that's why she didn't try it alone? The pool is designed with student physical therapy in mind, so a long staircase leads into one end, but if there was just a ladder, would she be able to--
“Yes.” Rin is looking at me again with those eyes, completely unassuming. I can almost see the water reflecting in them.
“Okay then.” We part ways to walk towards the changing rooms, Rin must be carrying a swimsuit in her bag. I guess we'll see where this takes us.


I'm not sure how popular the pool here at school is, but we seem to have stopped by at a quiet time. The boy's shower room is empty, and I'm grateful for the privacy. When I was younger I didn't have any issues changing in front of people, but the scar on my chest is quick to remind me how some things have changed. I haven't shown it to a single soul in all my time here. I begin to unbutton my shirt... and stop in my tracks.
I guess I didn't think this through.
This could be the only time that my “disability” being less obvious has worked to my disadvantage--I had completely forgotten about the jagged mark running down the center of my chest. Even when I was packing a swimsuit into my bag, the thought just hadn't crossed my mind.
I stand there, slightly panicked, mulling over my options.
Is it too late to turn back now? What if I just watched Rin swim? Does she need my help? Would it be creepy?
Is it really that big a deal? Will she care? Sometimes it doesn't seem like she cares about much of anything. But I remember what she said about my eyes, and how I look sad all the time, and how sad she herself looked at the thought of being like me, even though I hadn't realized I was really all that depressed.
I'm not ashamed of my scar. But what it represents, what it reminds me of every day, I'm just not ready to share that. Not with Rin, not with anybody. It's not an option.
I briefly consider wearing a t-shirt with my swimsuit, but that's just being silly. And I can't bring myself to bail out now, so I can only think of one choice remaining. I quickly throw my clothes into one of the fancy lockers and slip into the pair of swimming trunks I had tucked away in my bag.
With preparations finally done, I dash back through the doors leading into the pool. The room is mercifully empty, Rin apparently hasn't finished changing yet. I briefly wonder how, if she has trouble with shirts, can she possibly don a bathing suit without help, but decide to think about it more once I'm in the clear.
I stride to the deeper end of the pool, where the water is darker. Carefully sitting down by the side of the pool, I test the temperature with one foot. It's nice and warm, and, still feeling a sense of urgency, I slide my whole body into the water. The feeling of weightlessness, of sleek and thick water all around me, brings back more memories as I tread there, my scar hidden, if only somewhat, by the ripples and distortions along the surface.
Movement catches the corner of my eye, and I watch as Rin appears from the girls' changing room. She's dressed, somehow, in a plain, one-piece bathing suit, its black color contrasting with the red of her hair and her dark emerald eyes, which take in the scene before her impassively.
I'm not sure what to do, so I wave to her, still floating in the deep end. Rin walks forward, stopping just before the first step into the pool, and stares. For a moment I worry that she's staring at me, but she seems to be taking in the entire room as a whole.
I'm reminded of her talk about change, and how much it scares her. Life, every day, is full of tiny little changes. Is the transition from being dry to wet stopping her? It's something that can be undone pretty easily. Maybe little changes like this are a good place to start. Am I completely overthinking this? Maybe she can't even swim.
Rin's eyes flicker from somewhere in outer space straight to me, but before I can react, she takes the next few steps into the pool two at a time, before jumping, headfirst into the water.
Maybe I was wrong. Some changes are easier than others. I watch as the blurred smudge of black swimsuit, pale skin and red hair surges through the water for a few feet, before the face I've come to know so well emerges from the surface. Her hair is even more of a complete mess now, plastered to her head in all directions, and her lips are drawn in a line, but her eyes are wide with what might be the closest I've ever seen to wonder. It reminds me of watching the fireworks during the school festival.
I guess I was worrying too much about whether Rin could swim her not. She seems perfectly capable of treading water with her legs, and the sleek, graceful motions from her entrance reminded me of some kind of marine life, like a dolphin, her body bending up and down beneath the water. Now, her gaze travels from the ripples surrounding her, to the windows leading outside, and then back to the pool.
Is she in the sky?
“Are you in the sky?” Might as well find out. Rin closes her eyes solemnly.
“No. I am in the water. Water is more like a mirror than the sky. The worst kind of mirror.”
“But you're not underwater.” Her eyes open wide and she brings that gaze on me full bore. Part of me wants to shrink back but I hold my ground--well, water, because it's clear she knows what I mean. We both remember that day in the field of budding dandelion. It was probably the first, concrete step I took to accepting my new life here at Yamaku. The value of that shared experience has never been clearer now, as I know that, for once, we seem to be thinking about the exact same thing. I stare back at Rin, the knowledge that I know what's going on behind those blank eyes a precious gift.
She seems to think long and hard for a few seconds, then takes a deep breath and lets herself sink below the surface of the pool. I watch as, with no small amount of effort, she works her legs to propel herself further and further down, until she reaches the bottom. With too much water in between us, I can only see her faint outline.
The moment of clarity we seemed to share is gone now. Did I make a mistake? Is she trying to prove me wrong? Seconds pass and she still hasn't come up. I suck in a breath and propel myself downward, swimming closer to her. Rin isn't the type to do something stupid because of something someone else said. But if she really was here to get some inspiration for her art, would she risk drowning to get it? I really can't tell. I don't know.
The water stings my eyes as I draw closer to her, but I keep them wrenched open, glued to the murky figure that slowly comes into focus. She's just sitting there, hovering a little above the bottom of the pool, taking in the world around her as if a cloud had passed over the sun. I want to admire the sight of her, the light playing across her features, her hair branching out in thin wisps, but the burning in my lungs reminds me that my time in this underwater world is limited. I don't know how strong Rin's lungs are, but she's already been under for longer than I have, so she must be reaching her limit too. I swim over to be right next to her, our heads level, another thing that doesn't happen very often. For a second I worry that my scar will stand out with us being so close, but her eyes drift over my hair and face, before locking into my own.
Here we are. With water pressing in all around us, my lungs beginning to catch fire and my eyes hurting from the chlorine. Right next to eachother. But I don't understand the girl before me at all. Maybe I never will.
But the only way to know that for sure is if I give up. And I don't want to do that yet.
I can't keep this moment going any longer, I have to go up for air. I reach for her hand so I can pull her to the surface, but only get halfway before I remember that it's pointless. My hand just floats there for a second, useless. Feeling like an idiot, I let myself begin to float up, watching Rin as she watches me, drifting away from eachother.

My head breaks the surface of the pool and I suck in as much sweet air as possible. Relief hits me more than any of the waves or ripples around me as a red mop of hair emerges from the water and Rin's face becomes visible. I don't know what I was expecting. But her expression looks defeated.
“Are you okay?” I'm a little scared to ask. Not that I usually get a straight answer out of her anyway.
Rin's eyes are downcast as she treads water, a few feet away from me.
“Am I still underwater?” She mumbles, drops running down her face, her hair clinging to skin as if seeking shelter.
I have to do something. She had been just fine a minute ago. Maybe this is my fault.
I swim over to her slowly, not wanting to startle her. Her gaze flickers in my direction but she doesn't look up.
It's harder to talk to someone when you're continually bobbing up and down in a pool of water. I can already feel myself starting to get tired, I had forgotten how much exercise swimming actually is, and I haven't exactly been keeping up on my physical activity since coming here. But this is important. I'm not even sure why, but some part of me feels drawn to the delicate picture of a girl in front of me.
“Do you want to be underwater?”
“I don't.” The room has begun to grow darker as the sun begins to set. The automatic lights will kick on eventually, but for now, shadows begin to crawl in the corners of the pool.
I'm not really sure what to say. I already proved that I can't lead her anywhere physically, and I might not be as bad with words as she is, but I'm not really in any position to be giving motivational speeches.
“Don't worry.” I finally say, forcing a reassuring tone into my voice. “From what I've seen, you're a pretty good swimmer.”
She looks up at me now, waiting to see if I'll continue. I do.
“Besides, I remember Emi telling me how it's easier to go running every morning if you have a running partner. I bet it's not all that different with swimming.”
I glance away for a few moments, taking in the sunset's warm, orange rays through the wall of windows on the far side of the room, before looking back at her.
“I don't want to be underwater, either. But I think everyone feels that way sometimes, so...”
I'm running out of steam, literally and figuratively. I hope Rin understands what I'm trying to say, and I hope she got the inspiration for her painting that she was looking for. I turn around and start heading for the stairs leading out of the pool, feeling fatigue spike through my body. As I begin to step out, I turn my head, careful to keep my chest where she can't see it.
Rin has slowly been following me, expression thoughtful but neutral. I'm relieved. We part to return to the changing rooms, and when we meet up again, I notice she's still fairly wet. It must be hard for her to dry herself off under the circumstances. I don't have a towel with me, and I don't really know if it would be appropriate to help her out anyway, so as we begin walking back to the dorms I just hope she doesn't drip too much or catch cold.
We walk the rest of the way in silence, until its time to go our separate ways at the dormitories, darkness firmly setting in. She stops, and turns to me, as if waiting.
“You're pretty dry now.” I say with a smile.
She nods slowly.
“Being dry seems like the natural way of things. Unless it rains. But even the rain stops eventually. And then you just have puddles.”
Now I'm the one nodding.
“And puddles aren't deep enough be submerged in.”
Her eyes brighten a bit.
“It seems that way.”


A couple days later, at the art club after school, I'm trying to listen to another one of Nomiya's impassioned speeches, but it's too close to one of Mutou's rambling lectures for comfort. In desperation I glance over at Rin, who seems to be doing an even better job of blocking him out than me, her feet moving back and forth across the canvas before her in a flurry. I peek over her shoulder as carefully as I can, trying not to catch either her attention or the teacher's.
A wide swathe of different shades of blue, in swirls and splashes and jagged lines, covers the painting. A small person is sketched out in strips of black paint, surrounded by walls of blue on all sides. It seems like a very lonely painting at first glance. But as I watch, Rin adds another figure, in rough white outlines. It floats beside the first one, one hand reaching up, towards the heavens, the other extended towards the person next to it.
Rin paints over the second figure in what must be five layers of blue, but it's still there, faintly. Still reaching out, the two still side by side. Underwater, together.








“Great Waves” is a song by Dirty Three.