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The phone rings on Tuesday, July 16th. Well, July 16th in Japan. It’s still Monday in Madrid, and it’s 3 in the morning, so that’s why Itoshi Sae doesn’t answer the call.
Usually, he gets up at 5 to heat up dinner’s leftovers for breakfast. He doesn’t check his phone until 5:15 at least, after he’s leaning on the kitchen island is shoveling some rendition of chicken or rice into his mouth.
By then, Itoshi Rin will have been dead for over six hours.
Two Months Ago, May
Rin loves his hometown. This is something Yoichi has known about his best friend for a long time.
For as long as Yoichi can remember, Rin spoke of Kamakura with thinly veiled fondness, with the same type of tone he’d use talking about his favorite horror movies or his brother.
Well, maybe not horror movies. More like the way he spoke about his brother — with fondness intertwined with bitterness, although he seemed to harbor better feelings for Kamakura’s ocean waves than Real Madrid’s genius midfielder.
Nonetheless, Rin loves Kamakura, in the same way he loves everything — like he’s losing it.
That’s why, the day after their second-year ends, Yoichi buys himself and Rin shinkansen tickets from Tokyo straight to Kamakura Station for a trip by the sea.
Yoichi’s never been to Kamakura before, although he’d watched Slam Dunk! at Rin’s (vague) request and gotten a brief gist of everything.
Unlike Tokyo, seaside Kamakura has a sort of old-timey charm to it that makes Yoichi’s chest ache for something he’s never experienced. No wonder Rin misses it so much.
Despite it being his hometown, no family of Rin’s still live here. They moved to Tokyo for Rin’s schooling, after their eldest left for Madrid. Rin doesn’t like to speak of it so they don’t.
They don’t have to bother with visiting family, so Yoichi buys them Enoden passes (his treat), and they ride until Kamakurakokomae station. Yoichi’s admittedly excited to see it, because of that sweet confession scene in Slam Dunk, and he wonders if Rin feels the same way. Sometime along that ten-minute ride Rin grasps Yoichi’s hand and — isn’t that nice?
The trip must be making Rin feel sentimental. His best friend usually isn’t so touchy.
They goof around for the large part of the day, frequenting some of Rin’s childhood spots and a FamilyMart to get themselves some ice cream on the admittedly sweltering day.
Rin buys the orange two-sticked popsicle (before Yoichi can beat him to it) and insists on splitting it with him.
He laughs it off and shakes his head at first. “It’s fine, I’ll just get my own—”
Rin just shoves it in his hand, anyway. “It tastes better shared,” is his explanation.
Yoichi’s not sure about his logic there, but who is he to argue against free ice cream?
He takes it, and bites into it with his teeth. It hurts his teeth slightly, but the disgusted expression on Rin’s face makes up for it.
Yoichi finishes the popsicle in three bites, and drags Rin (who’s still licking at his) out of the store to explore more of Kamakura, because they’re only here for a day and — there’s FamilyMarts everywhere. What’s so special about this one?
When they get to the beach, finally, it is almost sunset. It’s a shame to have come here so late, but under the pinks and purples of the sun’s last rays Kamakura’s waters are even more beautiful.
They take off their shoes and strip off their socks, walking together along the shoreline and testing the edge of the water. It’s surprisingly cold, despite the warm weather.
“Isagi,” Rin finally says, after maybe twenty minutes of walking in silence, and there it is.
This entire time Rin hasn’t been as happy as Yoichi thought he’d be. It’s a small shift but when Rin is genuinely enjoying his time Yoichi can easily tell. The easiness of his expression. The pull of a smile at his lips.
Like that summertime, a year ago. Seems like a lifetime.
Not today, though. Something is weighing on his mind.
“I’ll be gone for the first month of break.”
“Oh,” Yoichi says for a second, a little bummed. He’s been thinking of places to go with his best friend over the summer — but they could always do those in July. “Where to?”
A complicated expression passes over Rin’s face, and he shoves his hands in his pockets.
“Sae,” he starts. Yoichi startles — Rin doesn’t mention his brother much, anymore. Almost never at all. “Sae wants us, my parents and I, to fly out to Madrid for a month. Said something about vacationing, or something.”
Yoichi cannot believe his ears. He stops walking, feet digging into the sand. “Really? That’s amazing! You’re excited, right? You’ve been looking forward to it for so long.”
But Rin doesn’t look excited, when he stops as well. His face is drawn together, and he’s pale.
“I guess so,” he says. “I have been hoping for something like this for a while. At least, I did, at one point.”
“At one point?” asks Yoichi. “Rin, what’s up?”
A full body sigh escapes from Rin’s mouth, and he frowns. “I don’t know if I like it,” he says, like it’s a confession of some sort. “It’s big, yeah, but it feels—”
His best friend cuts himself off, frowning.
Yoichi waits for him to continue. The last glimpse of the sun dips beneath the waves and with it disappears the colors, leaving only blue behind.
“It feels strange,” Rin finally says. “Like I’m being emptied.”
“Empty,” Yoichi repeats. “Is it like... you’ve wanted it for so long you don’t know what to do without it?”
Yoichi’s felt that way, before. Remembers the way he felt cradling the football in the inside of his foot then blasting it towards the net, remembers feeling that rush of adrenaline post-victory and the days of empty wallowing that followed.
“Yeah,” Rin says, after a moment. “Like that.”
“That’s normal,” Yoichi tells him, bending down and picking up a chipped seashell from the sand. “But that means things will get better from here on out, you know? You can talk to your brother more often, after.”
“Will I?” Rin asks, rhetorical, like he already knows the answer.
“You’re spending a month with him, yeah?” Yoichi asks. “That’s a lot of time. I believe in you, Rin. You should go.”
“You believe in me.” His best friends says it with an odd lilt in his voice, as if it’s funny.
Yoichi crosses his arms. “Hey! Why’re you laughing at me?”
“I’m not laughing,” Rin tells him, but Yoichi knows better.
Yoichi rolls his eyes. “Whatever. But seriously, you got this. I think this is a good thing. When’re you leaving?”
Another pause. Rin looks over at him with an odd expression.
“June fourth,” he says.
June fourth? That’s — well, that’s four days away. A short notice, all things considered.
“It’s Friday now. That’s—” he calculates in his head. “That’s Tuesday! You’re leaving on Tuesday?”
Rin nods. “Tuesday.”
“You should’ve told me earlier, jerk.”
“It was a short notice.”
Punching him lightly, Yoichi frowns. He’s not actually mad, just — surprised. “When’re you getting back?”
“July fourth at 6 in the evening,” Rin lists off the top of his head, like he’s rehearsed this speech before. Maybe he has, knowing Rin.
“An actual month, then.”
When Rin nods his head in agreement, Yoichi frowns even harder.
“I expect you to make up this month by overcompensating in July, yeah? You better. Jerk.”
It’s a light tease. Yoichi’s not actually planning to force Rin to do anything, and Rin knows that. But when he looks over at him, his best friend’s expression is a conflicted one.
Like the blue darkness of the ocean, Rin’s eyes are hard to read. Foggy.
Then it’s all gone, and smooths over into something calmer. Relieved, maybe? At rest.
Something twists in Yoichi’s stomach. He has no idea what it could be.
“Sure,” Rin says, and that’s all.
July 16th: Rin’s parents call Yoichi before they call Itoshi Sae, and maybe that in of itself speaks volumes about many things.
It’s 12. Perfectly midnight. Rin has always been particular about things like that. Had.
Later, Yoichi is the one to call Sae. Sae does not pick up. It’s only 3 in the morning in Madrid, after all.
Itoshi Rin kills himself in the bathtub, long legs bent to fit and nose submerged cleanly under.
It’s a little ironic. A little more than a month ago, Rin had been at the beach. He could’ve tried, then. Wouldn’t have had to bother with his month-long trip to Spain.
It would've been more romantic.
Yoichi wishes his best friend had tried to drown himself, back then in May. Because then, he would’ve been there to pull him out. Would’ve realized the intention, and maybe would’ve found a way to help.
He would’ve been able to see the cry for help for what it was.
Maybe then, he would’ve said something like “please stay,” instead of “I believe in you.” Instead of “you should go.”
Summer, a lifetime (year) ago: Itoshi Rin leans in and catches the humidity on Isagi Yoichi’s bottom lip.
It’s dusk on the school roof, and the late evening blue of eight in the evening dims the blues in Yoichi’s best friend’s eyes until they are only a reflection of the usual glow.
It feels natural. Yoichi doesn’t even question it, just smiles a little and tilts his head so they fit together more easily.
It feels natural. The blue of the dying evening light cradles their heads together in a beautiful rhythm, twin waves meeting each other on the shore.
Rin’s breath stutters a little, before he pulls away.
“Isagi,” he starts, ever the worrier, but Yoichi just shushes him with a hand and waits for Rin’s posture of protest to relax.
Yoichi shoves him a little and makes for himself a space in Rin’s side, cuddling up against him and leaning his head on his shoulder. Rin shuffles for a quiet moment before falling into the same comfortable silence, wrapping a loose arm around Yoichi.
“You’re my best friend,” Yoichi tells him.
Rin pauses for a few seconds, before smiling that rare smile of his.
“Yeah,” he says. “You’re mine, too.”
They’re best friends. In love, or not, Yoichi’s not certain.
Rin is, though. Yoichi just doesn’t know that yet — and never will. He doesn’t know about that, either, how easily Rin can slip through his fingertips when he’s not looking. Like water.
“I like spending time with you,” Yoichi tells him, upfront. The dopamine from their brush of lips lingers in his head and makes him say things he usually wouldn’t.
“Me too,” Rin says. His eyes are dark and almost blue in the eveninglight. It’s nice. It reminds him of ocean waves.
(Yoichi remembers how happy Rin looked, in that moment. Was he already planning to go, at that point? Was there a circle on his calendar, a dot beneath the date in his calendar app?)
(He’ll never know. He just remembered thinking that Rin looked like he was getting better. Like he wanted to get better. Like he was enjoying what he had with Yoichi.)
(And maybe he was. Yoichi doesn’t doubt a single word that Rin said nor a single moment spent — he’s just surprised and maybe a little disappointed that it wasn’t enough for him to consider staying.)
But him, in this moment, a year ago, does not know any of that yet. He’s too busy staring at Rin, his best friend, and thinking that it couldn’t get better than this.
I love you, Yoichi does not say. Maybe he should have.