Chapter 7: Unexpected First Steps

When you lack sleep, the last place you want to be would be at school, and the last thing you want to do is to move around. Yet here I am, standing before a clear 25 meter indoor swimming pool of the school with a subject that involves the most physical exertion: Physical Education.

I can safely say that a bird killed me with two stones.

And the loud buzz of my classmates talking and laughing is not helping in any way whatsoever. It seemed that they all have an affinity for making clamor, which was just one more reason why I get along with any of them.

On one side, I can see a handful of our female classmates already in the water, their swimsuits clinging to their bodies as they race across the lanes. On the other side, the guys cheered and hollered, with one nerd even using binoculars in order to have a closer look of their bodies.

It was ridiculous. The way my own kind are reacting, you’d think boys like me had been starved in the desert and suddenly found an oasis at the sight of feminine bodies. I kept watching them for a moment until that bitter question surfaced.

Was that scene really enough to send people into hysterics?

The curve of a body? The brief glint of skin? The sheer novelty of seeing classmates half-undressed? I knew they were supposed to be attractive traits amongst the opposite sex, but my heart barely raced at them.

I tried to imagine myself being next to one, but neither could rouse any reaction from me.

That was the case until I slipped and imagined Miyami-senpai in the same swimsuit.

"...Huh?" I looked at myself.

By that time, I became a tad concerned with my state of mind. I can feel some heat running to my ears and I had to stop imagining it completely.

But my head decided to betray me again as the next one came out even worse—

—Asahina-san.

Standing by the pool with that same dry expression of hers, clad in something as revealing as the others.

"...Oh."

It was such an uninvited thought, and my free hand caressed my forehead on instinct.

Why the hell did she appear in my mind? Of all people, my colleague and…my stepsister?

It felt like the towel draped around my shoulders would peel away and expose the thoughts that I've been having so I hastily grabbed onto it as if it were going to pull me back.

Perverse. That's what best describes my emotions towards them now.

I shook my head to recompose myself. That thought alone was dangerous. I shouldn’t even think about Asahina-san or Miyami-senpai in that light. But no matter how much I denied it, the unease crawling down my spine told me the truth.

It didn’t matter if I told myself otherwise—I’m still a healthy high school boy, after all.

“Oi, Fujimiya, you’re up!” our PE coach barked.

Great, Fujimiya. You're saved by the whistle.

I sighed and stripped off the towel. Although things proceeded normally, the sudden hush in the air didn’t escape me. A couple of girls in the back row were whispering audibly, and then someone blurted out:

“Wait—Kaede-kun’s actually built?”

And another.

"Oh, I thought he was lame and skinny beneath that uniform."

It looks like wearing tank tops didn't do any justice at all.

“Are you hitting the gym, Kaede-kun?”

The last question came from a girl who actually stepped forward, brushing back her wet bangs as if this conversation was somehow vital.

I blinked at her. “I don’t.”

“Ehh? But your arms…”

“I’m in the go-home club,” I said flatly. “Guess I was just lucky with genetics.”

It's because my biological mother is a former gymnast and my father also practiced baseball before. I'm not entirely into sports like them, but I loved the way they kept themselves in shape. So when Daiki revealed that he had an indoor gym and personal trainer, I didn't resist joining his training. After all, he was right: the exercise helped me relax. And besides, there's not exactly much else to do at home.

That seemed to end the commotion about my shape, though I caught more whispers as I stepped onto the starting block.

I pulled down my goggles before they could press further.

“Ready—”

The whistle cut through the air, and I dove.

The cold water swallowed me whole, muffling the world into nothing but movement. Arms out, pull, kick, breathe, a routine, just like everything I do best. I wasn’t aiming for speed or form, just to reach the other end. By the time I slapped the wall and surfaced, my lungs stung with chlorine and my classmates were already cheering for someone else.

“Thirty-two seconds, Fujimiya!” the coach called.

Average. Exactly what I expected.

I pulled myself up onto the ledge, water dripping down, and set my foot onto the tile—

"Tch...!" I flinched.

A throb shot up at my foot. Judging by its intensity and my reflexive action, it wasn't just cramps.

I glanced down. My sole was already coated in crimson, dripping red and spreading into the damp tile. Apparently, I’d planted my weight on a blunt crack in the tile.

“Oh crap, Fujimiya-kun's bleeding!”

"That's profuse! Call the coach!"

The voices blurred into a chorus I didn’t have a reply for. I just kept looking at my foot, the cut oozing blood and spreading tendrils beneath me.

It stung, yes. And the fact that the pain started to surface on my lifeless face meant that this was very bad.

"Fujimiya, are you okay?!"

The coach arrived with a concerned look on his face. In his hands were two first aid kits, one of which was already opened.

“…Guess that’s one way to make a splash.”

The coach frowned. “Save the jokes. Let me take a look..."

He lowered himself down and gently lifted my injured foot, inspecting them.

"It's deep, but they don't need stitches."

"I can go back to the classroom then."

"No, you're staying at the infirmary."

Much better then—I should’ve added. At least I can initiate my escape from this mess.

***

By the time the nurse left, the bleeding had stopped and my foot was already wrapped carefully with white gauze. However, the pain was still capable of making me wince every time I tried to move it around. "Please rest until the school bells ring," that's the order, and now, all I could do was stare at the ceiling.

Then to the windows.

Ceiling again.

Until probably the sunlight turns orange.

I wanted the day to end already.

And when the silence that threatened to swallow everything, there was the sound of the piano. No, it's not a real piano, but something that came out from a phone's speakers. It was a slow, melancholic intro.

Afterwards, the lyrics were so familiar that it cut straight through my boredom.

The outside temperature keeps chasing after the moon

Once again today, I live in the unchanging “now”

Because I don’t hold lofty expectations

Please, please let things stay just like this

A song from Waka, titled "Runa" [1]. I can't be mistaken. It was one of the songs I always play at midnight when sleep eludes me.

It's such a rarity that someone else was listening to a track I accidentally discovered on a shuffle, and I couldn't help myself but give a bit of attention.

I sat up and pulled the curtain back a little, and caught a glimpse of another occupied bed covered with the same dark green curtains as mine.

Someone else was here all along.

I let the curtain fall again. It's better to mind my own business. Yet, as the song kept playing, I had no choice but to sing along in my head, as if it could make that 'end of classes' closer than ever.

Ah, the moon is beautiful again tonight

Surely it will be just as beautiful tomorrow

Since time will never stop a beating heart

I’ll live true to myself

It wasn’t until the music clicked off that I heard a dry voice: “Stop singing. It’s creeping me out.”

I immediately sprung up from my bed and covered my mouth.

Was I mouthing the lyrics? Damn it...

I could already feel the colors draining from my face.

I pulled the curtain aside again slowly. The shame was already there, so why not just face it like a man?

And of all the hundreds of students that can be with me in the infirmary and hear my singing voice, why does it have to be her?

“Asahina-san…?” The word slipped out flat, almost dull.

She reclined there in her PE uniform, one leg crossed lazily over the other. One hand holding her phone, the other dangling loosely off the side. Completely relaxed if you asked me, like the infirmary bed was her personal couch.

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Her eyes flicked toward me, then back to her phone. “What, you expected someone else?”

“More like…I didn’t expect you here at all,” I said. “Did you get injured?”

She shook her head, still scrolling. “No.”

“…Then why?”

"There's plenty of reasons, do I need to elaborate?"

I thought about it for a second. I know that we set our own lines and decided to act like strangers to avoid any awkwardness given our past circumstances. Yet here I am, asking for reasons behind her actions, far from what I allowed myself to do. With the combination of her indifference and sharp gaze, I decided against trying anything further.

"No, sorry that I asked." as I covered my face with the white blanket, trying to hide how red I already felt.

The silence stretched between us. I could hear her slender fingers with sharp nails fiddling with the phone, clicking away in a practiced but nonchalant way.

Then, without a warning, she spoke up.

"This place is a lot quieter than the outside."

I let the blanket fall away slowly from my face and looked at her.

"Is that a justifiable reason? You're practically skipping classes."

"I'm not." she argued. "I already did my laps and fulfilled my requirement. Everything else is just...unncessary."

“You mean, attention?”

That got her to look at me directly. Her gaze was calm, but cold enough to make me shift on the bed.

It felt foreign that I kept asking and became curious about her reasonings. We had spoken more in the last five minutes than in weeks of living under the same roof.

"Yes. Apart from sports, everything is just a spectacle. There are boys staring at bodies on display, girls comparing measurements, and some are even trying to bait me using their friendly wiles. None of it has anything to do with physical health, and if I opted to stay on the sidelines, I only gave them a free ticket to peep at me instead."

Somehow, her words pulled me closer to a resolute thought.

I finally understood her position on the rumors about her well. The lone wolf persona isn't for flair, but a defensive mechanism from the attention she craved before that probably backfired. Having to see Asahina-san in a P.E uniform this close, with her curves and contours surfacing, made it clear that she truly has grown attractive, beyond expectations even.

I had talked about it earlier, about my male classmates yelling at the spectacle of seeing girls in swimsuits and similar attire. Even only in thought, the guilt was there. I wasn't above lust. I am a healthy highschooler, capable of feeling those complex emotions and yet, I still didn't expect to imagine my own stepsister in a bad light.

I clenched my fists against the sheets. The shame was a living thing in my chest.

“…Sorry,” I murmured.

Her brow twitched. “For what?”

Huh…? What am I even apologizing for?

The words slipped, goodness. I hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

My mind scrambled for an excuse, anything to make it an innocent statement.

“For humming earlier,” I said hesitantly, desperate for salvation. “I didn’t know it bothered you.”

She studied me, unblinking. “That’s it? I mean, your voice isn't that bad. I just had to react that way because I thought you were a stranger.”

She might have dissected my answer for a moment, but as she returned to her phone, it steadied the unease in my chest.

I leaned back against the pillow, forcing myself to heave a deep sigh. I thought that was the end of it, but it looks like Asahina-san still had the trump card on her sleeve.

“Your foot…why did you get injured?”

My eyes snapped open. The question caught me so off-guard that for a second I thought I’d misheard her.

"Eh?"

Asahina-san also gaped, embarrassed by the question she asked herself.

"...Sorry. That might have been a bit out of the blue. I was just thinking you're not that careless yourself."

I blinked. The fact that she was even asking made me feel…strangely exposed. It was the first time she had asked me anything directly since we started living together, and remembering that she answered my question before, I think there's no merit in hiding that now anyways—a typical give and take setup.

I let out a slow breath.

“No, it’s fine. It was during the race. When I climbed up to the ledge, I stepped on a broken tile. That’s all.”

“I see.” she hummed in acknowledgement. “…Then why swimming?”

The way she asked made it sound less like small talk, more like a challenge.

“...Do you accept figurative answers?”

“As long as it's an answer, yes.”

Honestly, my reasons aren't something worth remembering.

I took a deep breath.

“Because when I'm underwater…the noise of the world disappears. I don't hear criticisms or judgements about my form of swimming or anything about my past. It’s the only place where I don’t have to remember that people exist. Or that I exist, for that matter.”

“You mean…escapism?”

I nodded, amused by her assessment.

“When I swim, I can finally breathe. Which is ironic, I know. But…it’s the only place I don’t feel cornered.”

The words surprised me as they left my mouth. I hadn’t planned to share that much. But once I started, I couldn’t stop.

She lowered her phone and stared directly at me.

“…That’s unexpected.”

“What is?”

“That you’d say something like that. I thought you hated me.”

It really stung now that she put our invisible lines into words.

I met her gaze across. “I still do but...whatever we were before…we can’t be that again. For the sake of this house, for our parents, the only path left is family. We don’t need to like each other to at least function like one.”

Her expression shifted, subtle as a breeze. For the first time, her lips curved into a faint smile. It hit me harder than I expected.

Before I could process it, her phone buzzed against the sheets. She glanced at the screen, then stood, slipping the device into her pocket.

“Our classes are cut short. I’ll be heading home to buy groceries."

“Right… groceries.”

She walked toward the door without another word. As for me, I laid back against the pillow, and stared at the ceiling again.

I didn’t know what that smile meant—but I’m partly satisfied now that I didn’t feel suffocated being in the same room as her.