We were soon on the bays of the Atlantic Ocean, strolling across the beach with the pink horizon in the distance. There was this wistfulness that hung in the air, though I couldn't say for sure that it was because of our conversation before, or just the mood of it all. My eyes sparkled as they came to rest upon the sight of glittery water and calm waves lapping at the shore continuously, leaving small fragments of shells in their wake. While I eyed the shoreline, I didn't notice how Tooru glanced at me every so often to profile my expression and somehow decipher what I was feeling.

But his attempts were in vain. As we traversed the cove, my features remained as they were, unmoving and still. The only thing that hinted at the suggestion that I was capable of living was the rosiness that spread across my cheeks and the bridge of my nose. However, no matter how untelling my face may have been, it still was a strained effort to keep everything still. Oikawa must've noticed that, as he just left me alone and kept walking by my side, listening to and observing the ocean.

A part of me was glad that he realized that I wasn't in the best mindset to talk to, but another also yearned to hear the sweet melody that was his voice. Tugging my bottom lip between my teeth, I gave a soft sigh, drawing Tooru's attention close, but did nothing else after. When he became disinterested, my head emptied and I was left with the same pining desire to be able to garner his recognition again. As I wrung my hands together, I took a deep breath in and slipped into my subconscious, hoping that reminiscing better times would quell my emotions.

__

As a kid, I never really knew what I wanted to do when I grew up. Nothing seemed to align perfectly with my interests (if I even had any), or jump out at me as the ideal way to spend the rest of my life. Maybe I was just scared to commit, frightened by the possibility that what I chose would be something that I hated in the future.

This vicious cycle continued on for years on end, plaguing every moment of high school and university with the pressure of failure, or disappointment. Up until the moment I had to choose, I was uncertain, disbelieving of myself and my decisions.

During senior year, when I was forced to make a decision, I went for a safe option, still afraid that it'd be something I regretted. As a volleyball player in high school, the possibility of being in the  industry had piqued my interest more than other occupations, so I tried my hand at it. It wasn't a particularly strenuous job, so I enjoyed it for the most part, fortunately. Being able to surround myself with such talented and welcoming players, as well as fellow colleagues, really did make my life just a little bit easier. Of course, the sport never truly made me more happy, and never did it bring tons of excitement into my life -- it was cool, and I could survive, and that's all that mattered. 

But it wasn't until he came that suddenly, something snapped within me, and out emerged this burning passion from the cocoon of lifelessness. 

"Everyone, this is Tooru Oikawa. He moved from Japan and is now going to be playing with us as a setter." The moment I laid eyes on him I could tell I was going to be absolutely infatuated. He had the presence of a monarch -- dignified, methodical, commanding. His brown eyes gleamed like amber as they scanned the room, addressing every single player with one message, one promise:

I'm going to change your life.

The awestruck moment was completely shattered, however, when the brunette opened his mouth and said his opening lines. Every Argentinian inside that room bit their tongue to keep themselves from laughing. He spoke with such horrible, accented Spanish that I heard a few coughs from around the room, attempting to disguise laughter but never really succeeding.

But despite the embarrassment, Tooru Oikawa stood tall. 

And at that moment, I realized he was the one who would turn my world upside down.

 __

Months had passed since Tooru joined, and I'd gotten to know him better. We'd often talk about his life in Japan, how schooling was, and the friends he'd made over the course of his high school years. It was interesting how different his life was from mine. 

He was so confident. Possibly even obnoxiously so, to some. He knew what he wanted to do and commanded the task at will to be complete with the utmost precision. I admired that aspect of him -- after all, it was a trait that I couldn't even dream of obtaining. When our conversation drifted to the topic of volleyball, I realized that I'd never asked Oikawa about his team, and what competitions they participated in. For him to come to the San Juan team so suddenly only meant that his skill must've been derived from one of the best crop in Japan.

"Say, Tooru, have you ever gone to nationals in Japan?"

I realized a long while ago that he was a more than competent setter. I'd seen him in action and saw this gloss of determination come over his irises every time his fingers were on the ball. He was so passionate, so driven, so-

"Oh, we never made it."

My thoughts ceased almost immediately, replaced with the straining feeling of regret. I wanted to say sorry, or something to try and fix the negative feelings that had been brought up so suddenly, but there was something in Oikawa's eyes that pleaded for me to not bother the story any longer. Though he sat up straight and tried to maintain this strong facade, I'd already known that he was hiding. 

Despite his stature, his eyes reflected the emotions of a young boy. 

A child, who'd left Japan with crushed dreams and a torn spirit, desperate to start anew, without the emotional baggage. But perhaps I was wrong. He could've left Japan for a number of reasons. Maybe family, university, work, leisure, anything really. But I think he knew that I knew the truth. I wasn't a perceptive type most of the time, but there was something so familiar and so sad about those eyes.

As I continued to wonder, Tooru started to shift in his seat. With a wide grin, he turned to me and just nodded, then got up and started to walk away with no words exchanged. It was awkward, but there was no need to say goodbye -- the conversation had already ended the moment I asked him that goddamn question. 

Clasping my cheeks in my hands, I sighed and tried to erase that memory of his irises from my mind. He was faking that smile, I just knew it.

More than anything, he wished for one victory of his own. 

God, but how it tormented him to think how selfish he was, how demanding of a person he could be in what he expected from others. He practiced day and night for hours on end, trying to reach perfection but never attaining it -- there was always someone above, so naturally leaping towards the goal he had worked towards his whole life. Some prodigal genius had overshadowed all his effort, all his sweat and blood that he shed, that dripped onto the court. 

As my heart ached and this message that laid underneath his mask became more apparent to me, I curled my fingers, digging my nails into the flesh of my cheeks and started to cry.

And at that moment I swore to never let go of him. 

__

My eyes fluttered open as I was pulled back into the present. Tooru was still at my side, strolling with me along the shoreline. I sighed contentedly at the sight, enjoying the comfort of his company.

We walked until the soles of my feet burned, my heels chafing against the smooth rubber of my flip-flops as I took another stride towards the horizon. The sun's rays cast against my figure, warming my body and reddening my cheeks, painting my skin with such a wonderful orange light. Tilting my head up, I started to reminisce about the last time in which I'd felt this at-ease.

Emotion stirred up within my soul, the floodgates of my memory letting loose, showering my conscious with levity and sorrow at the same time.

And even though my eyes were beginning to water, the ocean's breeze swept it away, the sweet saltiness intermingling with the delicate pain of nostalgia I felt both internally and externally, caused my regret to blossom into liberation. Taking a deep breath, I found the courage to smile, then laugh as I turned to Oikawa as if I had just discovered a revelation for my own.

As my hair whipped in the wind and I looked beyond what was left of the calming night, I met Tooru's gaze. His creased eyes and hopeful glint within hazelnut irises reminded me of home, of all that was left of the good in the world. He looked as if he was expecting this to come all along.

The apparent sadness in his stare that I'd ingrained into my memory so long ago was no longer there. All that was left in those eyes was pure, undulating adoration. 

It felt like everything was right again. It felt like my world had finally started to spin on its axis, around the sun and in balance with the constellations.

Taking his hand and squeezing it tight, I gathered up the courage to say the first words of the evening.

"Thank you."