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That night, nearly right after the relay race, Kou makes Rin come home. "I've been worried about you," are the words that finally make him agree, after literally five minutes of her taking him aside and pleading with him. She's gone through the typical 'you haven't spent a night at home since you got back from Australia ' and 'I'll make Mom force you' and 'we'll order from your old favorite takeout place and completely ignore your diet' to no avail. For his sake, she's tried to play-pretend like this isn't strategic, like everything is normal.
But when she closes her eyes in the half a second it takes to blink, she keeps seeing on replay: Rin struggling to get out of the pool, trembling and on the verge of breaking down in front of hundreds of people. And that gives her courage and strength -- they can't keep pretending at normal, passively going along with the status quo has led them down a path where she barely sees her brother, barely sees her brother (laughing, smiling, enjoying life so much it drives him to passionately crying about the future and his goals and his friends, his family). So Kou repeats herself, "I'm still worried."
Rin starts at her words, looks at her with wide eyes. That he's upset that he's worried anyone, especially his baby sister, is as clear as day on his face. Kou kind of wants to get angry at him for it, because this isn't about her, god. Yes she's worried, but she mostly wants him to stop bottling up the things he feels because of how he thinks it might inconvenience those around him. She never wants him to think he's alone ever again, even if Kou's not sure how to say those exact words without making him so uncomfortable that he tries to change the subject, dance around his less than healthy habits.
"Okay," her older brother finally says after staring at her worried expression for a while. "But, really -- I'm fine."
She stares intently at him, not sure whether to laugh or cry in incredulous exasperation, because 'fine' is not a claim that seems even remotely close to a plausible lie. Fine, really? He couldn't climb out of the pool. She exhales shakily, at the memory.
Rin sees how she's upset, and he eventually adds a mumbled qualifier of, "…now. I'm fine now."
He's running a flustered hand through his hair and not meeting her eyes. And she knows that nervous tick, that false show of bravado. Rin is trying to avoid freaking her out, trying to avoid talking about what it is that's had him messed up for the past few years -- and that's so frustrating. But Kou just takes his free hand, the one not entangled in his hair, and grasps it tightly -- and she breathes in his reluctant agreement, savors the small victories, the little steps of progress they have going for them.
"Okay," she murmurs, blinking back tears (that seem to have come from nowhere all of a sudden), almost blinded by how they refract the setting sun's brilliant oranges and reds directly in her eyes. "That's a good start."
Rin laughs and it sounds a little throaty. "Shut it, you. If I'm not riding back to Samezuka, I have to text the captain, and Ni -- Ai -- uh, my roommate?"
"I know who that is, geez," she retorts, shooting a little bit of exaggerated incredulity at him. It's a joke, it's a way to let him know that Kou knows he's not fragile and weak -- just knows he got a little lost and a little messed up and needs some help, knows that they're not completely out of the woods yet, but the darkest and hardest part is mostly behind them now.
Rin laughs again and ruffles her hair, and she thinks that means he gets it.
The rest of the evening passes by innocuously enough, with little fanfare and instead leisurely and uneventfully. The two of them take the train partway home in silence -- and then walk the rest of the way while chatting about what she's been up to here in Japan. About the friends she's made that aren't his childhood friends; how she thought about going to a specialty school in Tokyo for medical sciences before deciding she's still too indecisive about her future to rack up those kinds of tuition fees for Mom to cover; that she half wants to legally change her name the second she hits eighteen, but then thinks about how it's kind of a legacy thing from Dad and so might not in the end.
They stop at the old takeout place after all, and order from memory what their favorites from two or three years ago were with the hope that it's still good. The serene mood, delicate and unobtrusive, is appropriately topped off by coming home to a quiet house (because Mom's got a late shift at work, per usual).
"Not much has changed, huh?" Rin says, as Kou flips on the lights and turns on the air conditioning unit on her way to the kitchen. He is sounding suddenly apologetic, and Kou doesn't like that.
"No," she says lightly, casually, because Mom being busy is no big deal, it's what they've both always been used to. And her coming back to an empty house may not be countered by having a supportive roommate, but she has late nights with the swim club and a full inbox (cheerful groupchats from Nagisa mostly, but also plenty of texts from Chigusa, from Rei, from Makoto and even a few from Haru) to keep her company, to keep her mind off her occasional bouts of loneliness. "But I'm fine. I have friends and -- and, Mom tries her best. Like always."
"Really?" Rin still sounds reluctant, guilty almost. Kou really doesn't like that, but he keeps going and the direction he takes it isn't necessarily bad, not like she'd feared it might . "It's still -- I mean I haven't been around much, and that's. I, uh. I'm sorry about that."
Kou is carefully pulling the food out of the bags, and now it's her turn to refuse to meet his eyes. She grits her teeth and gathers her courage to say one of the most important things weighing on her mind, on her heart. "Yeah? Well, then -- then talk to me."
Her urgency seems to take him by surprise. "Wha -- ?"
Something wells up in her chest and instantly bursts open, and Kou suddenly can't stop the rush of emotions that take over. "Talk to me! Talk to me like you -- like you always used to. Don't leave me in the dark, I just -- I." Kou remembers Rin coming home over the winter breaks and withdrawing into himself a little more each time, and her not understanding anything about him anymore. And that scares her, the thought that it might happen again if she doesn't say anything to stop it, scares her so much that she might really start crying right here in the middle of the kitchen.
"Please," she whispers. "Talk to me."
Rin's breath catches in his throat so loudly it's audible from across the threshold. And the next thing Kou knows is that the container of extra rice in her hands tumbles onto the floor and spills everywhere, when Rin rushes her from behind and pulls her into a sudden, tight hug.
"Okay," he says, too muffled for her to discern if there are tears weighing on his words or if there's just tired understanding and acceptance of the fact that he messed up and that's okay, that he has to learn to be okay with messing up and not pushing everyone he loves away in the process. "I will. I'm sorry, I really will."
"You're not alone," she says, into his shirt and just as muffled, and she is crying a little bit, over her dumb crybaby big brother.
Rin rocks her slowly, soothingly, while he holds her. "I know I know, I have you, right?"
Kou hiccups out a noise that is supposed to be agreement. And then hiccups out a noise that is complete and total disbelief that she's the one getting comforted when it's supposed to be the other way around right now.
He lets out a little, quiet sigh-laugh, like he can't quite believe the circumstances either. "And you're not alone either, 'cause you've got me...right?" Rin says delicately, and when she pulls away to see if the hint of a smile in his voice is real, Kou is greeted by a small lilting grin, a sincere and steady thing. His eyes are glistening with unshed tears and he's sniffling a little, but the grin stays strong.
"You've got that right...!" Kou says as fiercely as she can manage while awkwardly wiping at her eyes, her arms trapped between her and Rin's bodies. Her dumb, dumb brother and his dumb, dumb everything, she thinks affectionately as Rin grins wider -- though a few large teardrops break free and slide down his cheeks -- and he leans down to kiss her forehead. Kou's missed him and his smiling and his unapologetic, beaming happiness -- and she's so glad he's come back, is getting back to being himself.
"We've got each other," Kou says, repeating the sentiment for emphasis, and when Rin finally pulls away she reaches up and takes his face between her hands to make him lean down even further for her to kiss his forehead too. The two of them are looking out for each other, they're getting back to what's normal and right for them, and it's a good feeling.