Every morning his uncle dumps a glass of cold water on him because it is by experience that Lavi isn't the easiest person to wake at six thirty in the morning. He hates it but he has no arguments against its efficacy, because he jolts straight out of bed with a yelp each time, from where Bookman can kick him to the toilet to get changed.

This time, however, he has a lot of arguments with the fucking pain in his muscles.

"Oh my god," he whimpers on the floor in a fetal position, sore muscles protesting.

"Idiot," Bookman nudges him by his foot. "Change up. We're leaving in thirty minutes."

Lavi groans groggily and hobbles himself to the bathroom to brush his teeth—and winces at the pull on his biceps when he stretches his arms out to take the toothpaste. Blearily he notices that the swell on his lip has gone down with the ice he applied yesterday, but it's still slightly bruised. Are sports supposed to inflict this much bodily harm?

Lavi would like to think himself decent at most sports at the recreational level; he's relatively good with basketball and tennis if he'd say so himself. But sailing. Huh. Sailing. Seems like the water sport had demanded use of plenty of muscles he hadn't known existed, especially his forearms and fingers which felt like they were in a constant numb but strained state. It's ridiculous because he's just supposed to sit in a boat, but oh yeah, there's the capsizing.

A lot of capsizing.

Lavi sighs and shakes his head awake. Thankfully the next training—if he shows up—is a day after, so has the whole of today to really think this through.

Is he really going to put himself out there for this? Granted it was only his first session but to be honest, he had felt terrible when he reached home and laid on his bed—the rocking motions of the sea had even followed him home.

There was fatigue like he never felt before. Also there was this teensy problem that he wasn't getting it. Allen and Kanda made it look so easy on the water but he still can't tack properly, and if he couldn't do that then it meant that he couldn't sail, wasn't it?

Maybe in short, Lavi isn't used to not being good at something. He picks things up easily—too easily, and that's why he finds himself bored of things quickly, but this time, not getting it is also not very appealing. How much effort does he have to put in to finally get it right? Is it worth the months to learn and then maybe he finds out that he's really not adept to the sport—he has time to kill, but if he's not enjoying killing the time, then, maybe, it's not worth it.

But then he remembers Kanda's sneer and 'he's going to quit—you can see it in his face', the condescending tone and disappointment and Lavi groans again.

Easy for Kanda to say, the guy has been sailing for years, hasn't he?

"Lavi."

"Lavi."

A sharp prod to his side makes him jump to attention, and Lavi whips his head to glare at the student beside him. "What?"

Howard Link, a fair long-haired plaited blond, looks pointedly at Lavi's lecture notes and turns his gaze passively back to the lecturer in front. Lavi glances down at his notes and blanches, hastily cancelling out the name he had doodled several times on the paper while he was zoning out.

"I-it's not what you think, I—" he mumbles, but Link merely focuses his attention on their lecture and ignores his spluttered explanations.

Lavi huffs and tries to listen to the economics lecturer but honestly market power and market structure isn't the most interesting thing in the world, not when Kanda on the other side of the lecture hall with his own class (but is unsurprisingly sitting alone in a row behind the rest), staring off and obviously not paying attention to the lesson either.

Another sharp prod jabs his ribs and Lavi clutches forward to hide the wince that came with the muscle strain when he jolted in reflex.

Link sighs and writes down the notes flashed on screen, but an amused small smile graces the edge of his lips.

"Legs off the table."

Lavi pouts, but he does take his legs down, although slowly, because of the sore muscles.

"What do you want, Lavi?" Link sighs, setting down the folders he was carrying and sorting them into different piles on the desk.

He has no idea how Lavi just enters the student council room whenever he feels like it with no sense of shame even though the redhead is nowhere involved in student council activities.

"Why must you always assume that I want something?" Lavi sniffs. "I'm concerned for your well-being, prez. You didn't get lunch, right Mr Workaholic? I got you a donut, I want my thanks."

Link raises an eyebrow but takes the offered crinkled paper bag and peers inside. The said pastry is covered with rainbow chocolate rice, and he nods. "Thanks. But seriously, what do you want? You're normally the first person out of the school gate if you don't have to stay back."

Lavi swirls in the roller chair he's got himself seated in. "…I need advice."

"I'd advise not to," Link says without a heartbeat, and Lavi blinks.

"What?"

The blonde resumes packing his folders as he speaks. "Don't chase after him. You'll just get hurt."

"…What are you talking about?" Lavi frowns. "I'm asking if you think I should continue to try sailing—what did you think I was talking about? Chase who?"

"The one you always stare at during lectures," Link replies nonchalantly, taking a seat of his own and grabbing the donut when he's done packing.

"…I don't always stare at him."

"You sometimes, except for that one time he was absent, have stared at him," Link agrees.

"Fuck you, prez," Lavi mutters. "I'm just curious about him, okay? It's not a big deal."

"Curious enough to write his name all over your notes?"

"I-I told you that was an accident!"

Link's eyebrows go up higher as he chews his late lunch (snack).

"I was just thinking of what he said to me yesterday and I—and anyway, why are we talking about Yuu?" he crosses his arms, swivelling in the chair once more. "I asked you if you think I should continue sailing."

Link bites another mouthful and chews, taking his time to swallow. "Why are you asking me?" he says eventually. "It's your choice as to what club you want to join."

"Well yeah…but…" Lavi swivels in the chair again, and Link sighs.

"What's stopping you?"

"It's fucking hard," the redhead answers truthfully, looking at the ceiling. "But it was only the first lesson, so…so maybe I just need time. Or something. It's not fair that Yuu and Allen are great at it—I'm like a fetus compared to them. Or maybe even an egg. Sperm. Whatever," he sighs. "I dunno. What if I'm just not cut out for it?"

"You do realise that in any sport or performing arts, there is a thing called practice?" Link replies, taking another bite. "No one gets it straight away. I understand that the concept might be foreign to you."

Lavi shoves Link the finger, but neither really takes to heart—Lavi knows exactly what Link means, because there are little things in his life that his eidetic memory hasn't helped him with.

"More importantly, did you like it?"

"Huh?"

"Did you like the sailing experience?" Link repeats calmly. "Did you like being in the boat?"

"I was barely in the boat."

"You know what I mean."

"I…I don't know," Lavi murmurs. "I mean, I can…see how it can be fun, if I wasn't fucking capsizing all the time."

"Seems like you don't really like it."

"But—"

"So, why are you considering to continue then?" Link continues, now folding the empty paper bag into a little square. "You don't need it for your CV."

"Says who? I'm gonna be valedictorian, prez, not you," Lavi smirks in challenge.

"Keep dreaming," Link rolls his eyes. "You don't need it for your CV," he repeats. "And you're obviously are not very keen on it—"

"Who says I'm not keen—"

"If Yuu Kanda wasn't a sailor would you even be thinking about it?"

Lavi abruptly stops swivelling in the chair. "That was low."

"But is it true?"

"Of course not!" Lavi protests, sour. "I'm not stalking him or anything, why would it matter if Yuu was part of the team? I mean, he doesn't even want me there! It's not like joining the club would get me closer to him or anything, he doesn't talk to anyone except Allen and Lenalee and you know what?" he rants, clearly in his own world as Link watches on. "The first thing he said when Allen asked me to join was 'no fucking way' and then he said I was a waste of time because I was going to quit by the first training and ughhhhh—I'm not going to give him any satisfaction that he was fucking right!"

Link shakes his head. "…Do you really want to suffer for a year just because you want to prove him wrong?"

"Yes," Lavi huffs.

"…"

"What."

"Nothing."

So maybe it's all worth it when he sees Kanda's widened eyes that lasts for a split second before the surprised expression morphs back into its usual scowl when he meets the other and Allen at the foyer the next day.

"Lavi!" Allen smiles, bright. "I knew you'd come! That's five bucks and lunch, dear," he winks to Kanda who growls and turns on his heel to avoid them both.

"Yeah, I thought I'd give it another go—or at least, until I'm sure I really suck at it," he chuckles.

"You don't need to stick around for that," Kanda mutters, and Allen elbows the other sharply, ignoring the statement.

"Oh, you came," Tyki strolls up to them causally with his backpack over his shoulder. "Good. Seems like the club will be safe. Let's go, boys. The taxi is outside."

"Safe?" Lavi blinks as he moves the others, Kanda's long strides moving fast away with Allen hurrying after him, which leaves him to walk beside the literature teacher's lazy steps.

"They didn't tell you?" Tyki hums. "Allen came into my office five times yesterday to ask if you had told me if you wanted to quit. It was agitating for him, see, if the school shut the team down because they couldn't get one more member."

"Why would the school shut this club down? Didn't you guys place second last year? And Yuu was first in the individual category, right? I thought the board would give more funding to the sports that do really well!"

"That is usually the case, but it would be a problem if the team couldn't even qualify to compete," Tyki answers. "The three of you is the bare minimum."

"Three?" Lavi echoes.

"Three," Tyki nods, and gets into the front seat of the taxi.

Lavi slips into the passenger seat behind next to Allen whilst Kanda is on the other side, staring out of the window.

"…Wait. I'm like, needed?"

"I'm sorry! I should've told you but I really wanted you to see if you'd like sailing first!" Allen presses his palms together in apology.

"Don't lie, bean, you just wanted to make him feel less of a used idiot," Kanda puts in, and Allen throws his glare over.

"Hey, Kanda, ever heard of shut up?" Allen grinds out.

"…If you need me," Lavi suddenly speaks up, confused. "Why are you not even trying to want me in the team?"

"I don't need you."

"Yes, we do need you," Allen corrects immediately.

"No, we don't."

"Yes, we do!"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes—god, Kanda, you know we can't compete if we don't have Lavi!" Allen shouts.

"So what if we can fucking compete?" Kanda snarls back, jabbing a finger. "If the fucking idiot doesn't get a good placing we can't win any damn thing anyway!"

"How would you know Lavi can't do it? He's just started learning—"

"Precisely my fucking point, do you honestly think he can beat the creepy twins and shit? Because they already fucking suck and this fucking newbie won't even touch their level by seven fucking months!"

"You're just being unreasonable—"

"And you're just being a damn fool—"

"Guys, I'm right here," Lavi clears his throat.

At least Allen has the decency to look embarrassed, whereas Kanda just purses his lips.

"How do you know I can't do it?" Lavi asks, hands on his hips. "How do you know I can't be…good?"

Allen and Kanda blinks at the same time, but the expressions after that are pretty different. Allen beams, while Kanda's scowl deepens.

"Seven months?" Kanda scoffs. "You'd have better luck making the beansprout diet."

"Hey—"

"I think I can do it," Lavi says stubbornly. "I'll prove it to you."

"You won't."

The assured way that Kanda states his opinion really makes Lavi want to tear things apart. "I will. And when I do, I want you to admit that you were wrong about me."

"I'm not making a stupid bet with you."

"What have you got to lose since you're so confident that I can't do it?" Lavi raises an eyebrow.

Kanda glowers, and when Allen flashes him a beginning of a snarky comment, he breathes out irritatedly. "…Fine."

Lavi grins, vindicated for those few seconds until the sound of Fou's shrill whistle slices the air.

"Let's move out! Red, stick with pretty boy! Come on, the tide is falling!"

Lavi feels a hand rest on his shoulder and he yelps, nearly falling off swivel chair. But then that also makes him wince at the default ache that blossoms throughout his entire forearms—oh god, fuck.

Link snorts. "I didn't say you could use this room to hang out."

"You also didn't say that I couldn't," Lavi counters, leaning back on the seat. "No one uses the council room besides you anyways, prez," he grins. "I have no idea why though—the air con is fucking awesome. What's up? Why are you so late today? It's almost six."

"The usual," Link sighs, turning around to hunt for his bag that Lavi has unceremoniously dumped to the side when the other took over the chair. "Someone proposed to set up a kissing booth for Valentine's day—Mr Lee wasn't too keen on the idea."

"Huh, it's not like it'll be Lenalee mending the booth."

"Regardless," Link shrugs. "What are you doing?" he asks right after, when he hauls his backpack over his shoulder and looks at the mess on the desk.

Scattered around are pieces of coloured rope that are tied in various ways.

"Pretty cool, right?" Lavi grins, flicking one over. "I gotta learn different knots to rig the boat, so I got some to practice on. Figure of eight. It's literally an eight, see, so that's easy."

"And that?"

"That's the bowline—it's the hardest one so far, but it's awesome, I didn't know it's the same type of knot you'd tie around yourself when you want to be hauled out of somewhere. I think I've got it down, anyhow. I'll show Yuu next week," Lavi murmurs. "So what if I can't properly sail yet? I'll rig the damn boat at the very least."

Link raises his eyebrows but doesn't want to comment on the apparent second sailing session, because Lavi makes this sour look and goes on a rant about his aching muscles and somehow there'd be an inevitable dialogue which ends up to Yuu Kanda hating him or something because of the multiple capsizes.

"…Are you trying to impress him?"

"No," Lavi says immediately, frowning. "Where did that come from? Why must you make everything about Yuu sound so…so suggestive?"

"I don't."

"You do!" he accuses. "I'm not trying to impress Yuu—I don't want to…to…d-date him or anything, I just think he's…very…fascinating, okay?"

"Okay."

"And being fascinating doesn't excuse him for being a dick, I mean, seriously, so what if I suck now, I won't suck later…I hope."

"You don't have to do this, you know."

"No, I totally do."

"Sure."

By the fourth training Lavi thinks his muscles are somewhat getting used to the exertion—and he is actually a lot faster in uprighting the capsized boat. Which is good, because the longer he fumbles in the water the darker Kanda glares at him while the other floats with his lifejacket, unwilling to help out. But that is all fine—Lavi is gonna be a master pro at this, just wait and see.

He doesn't even wait for Kanda's bark to tell him to bear away and sheet in to get the boat moving once more—sit forward, palms down, hike out, watch the tell tails, keep an eye on the buoy, watch the current, watch the angle of the boom—he makes the boat move without too much hassle, although he struggles with keeping the mainsheet between his fingers. The strength of fucking wind is nightmare to fight against.

Allen's boat is way ahead of him and he doesn't bother about it, concentrating on his own movements. At the corner of his eye Kanda sits against the daggerboard, bored.

"Tack."

"But I can make it to the buoy—"

"You won't round it. The current is too strong. Tack."

But from Lavi's line of sight he is heading directly straight to the buoy, so he keeps on going, despite the irritated sigh that comes from Kanda. True enough when he's right at the floating blue balloon, he tries to point the rudder to get the boat to around the buoy, but ends up shifting the boat directly into the direction of the wind, and the boat stalls.

"Shit."

"I told you to tack, you fucking idiot," Kanda mutters, cheek on his palm. "Bear away—what the fuck are you trying to do?"

"It's stuck," Lavi frowns, trying to push the rudder backwards.

With another terrible sigh Kanda gets to his knees and slides the dagger board up. With a few up and down movements he presumably releases the tangle that the buoy's anchor rope had wrapped around the daggerboard, and Lavi steers the boat to round the balloon. Except, he's too late in grasping the main sheet as the wind hits the sails, causing the boat to lurch forward.

"Fucking—shit—don't drop your fucking main sheet!" Kanda yells as water rushes in front the front, and Kanda scrambles towards the back of the boat to balance it before they capsize again.

"Sorry!" he shouts back, yanking the rope, but that causes the sail to jerk towards them with the motion, and since they are on leeward, the sail flips over to the other side in the process and jerks forward again.

"Fuck—get to the other—"

This time neither of them manage to balance out sudden weight of the sail on the port of the boat.

Ugh, salt water.

Allen sails past them, giving them a jaunty wave.

"I might not have completely told you the truth when I said we have trainings twice a week," Allen begins when he bashfully comes over to the table where Lavi is during a break, and Lavi crosses his arms, unimpressed. "I didn't lie—technically—we only do have water trainings twice a week, but uh, um…"

Lavi keeps the stern look for about twenty seconds more before he cracks and laughs. "Dude, I said I was in this, right? I wouldn't actually mind if there were more trainings, I'd probably be able to prove Yuu wrong faster," he muses, wringing his shoulder back. "But I don't know if my body can take the abuse."

Allen relaxes visibly. "Well. Actually, it's about that. We have water trainings, and we also have physical training. On land. At the school gym. Once a week, Fridays."

"Today is Friday."

"Yeah…I was hoping you'd come? If you can't, then join us from next week. Kanda ends his lessons at one, and I usually come in after two—just a workout for a couple of hours, it'll really help with your upper body strength."

Lavi wrings his shoulder back again and winces. "Yeah, that sounds reasonable. You're just lucky I have nothing to do after school," he chuckles. "I don't mind joining you guys for today, but I don't have a t-shirt or shorts, though—"

"Doesn't matter, Kanda will lend you his, he has plenty of spares," Allen smiles widely, head whipping up when Lenalee calls his name in the distance. "Sorry, I've got to dash for my next class, it's on the fourth floor. I'll see you later!"

"…Lend me his…?" Lavi mumbles to himself as Allen leaves, skeptical.

Link finishes up his drink beside him and places the cup on the table.

"Don't say it," Lavi says immediately.

"I didn't say anything."

Physical training makes a lot of sense, actually. Fou had told him to work on his upper body strength and his abs were starting to get sore on the days he had to hike out. It wasn't like he was unfit or anything from the start, it's just, he does have a lanky body which means that his arm muscles has to be able to support more weight then let's say, Kanda or Allen.

It's been a while since he's hit the gym properly though—he's mostly stuck to jogging at nights around the area where he lives since he's joined literary society last year. He knows the school gym is somewhere near the track field but he hasn't been in it, and so he takes a while to find it. When he does, though, he vaguely wonders if he should've left his bag in the student council room with Link since he sees no cubby holes to put his stuff.

His wondering screeches to a halt when he pushes the door open and sees Kanda on the pull up bars.

Kanda's back is towards him and the other is wearing his P.E. shirt, flimsy thin P.E shirt, Lavi has to state, because the white material is soaked through and sticking to those back muscles that flex each time Kanda pulls his chin over the bar with a practised ease that isn't fair at all. And Kanda is also wearing sport shorts that reveal his milky thighs—now Lavi can reason why Kanda's skin is so white is because the sailor pretty much wears the hiking gear that covers his entire lower body, but it doesn't answer how the other's complexion has nothing of a hint of a suntan—Lavi already feels the UV rays clawing into his skin and he actually puts on sunblock. If he remembers.

Five more counts and Kanda drops his grip to land on the ground, gaze tilting backward.

"If you're going to stand there like an idiot at least close the fucking door—the air conditioning is on."

Lavi scowls to himself and steps in, closing the door behind him. "Allen said that you could lend me a P.E. shirt and shorts."

A grumble occurs but clothes get shoved at him, which leaves Lavi flabbergasted.

"Wash it before you give it back to me. I don't want your dirty laundry."

"Right. Thanks," he nods, taking the clothes to the toilet outside to change.

He tries not to think too much about this strange situation—but it's hard not to, especially when Kanda's size is a little tight for him, but it'll do. When he comes back Kanda has moved to the dumb bells, muscles flexing with the slow measured breathes.

He tries not to look at Kanda too much and surveys the rest of the gym, wondering where he should start.

"Push ups," Kanda says, and Lavi looks at him. "Get on the floor. Start with push ups."

"How many?"

"Fifty."

"What."

"You can't do it?" Kanda smirks, and Lavi narrows his eye.

He gets to the mat and positions himself down, palms spread apart.

"One," he counts as he dips his body low. "Two. Three."

"That doesn't count. Again."

"What do you mean that didn't count?" Lavi demands, head cocking to side to look at Kanda.

"You didn't keep your body straight. And go lower." Lavi grunts and lowers himself again, but Kanda clucks his tongue. "Lower."

"Any lower I'm gonna kiss the fucking ground," Lavi mutters, and pushes himself up again, grunting from the exertion. "Four."

"No, you're still at two."

"Fuck you, Yuu."

"Don't use my first name, asshole."

Link doesn't even comment when Lavi stumbles into the student council room later, looking dead on his feet.

Lavi grins. "Hey, sorry, did you wait long?"

"You've waited longer for me," Link says, packing his half-done homework that he was pouring through before Lavi came in.

"True," Lavi shrugs, waiting for the student council president to lock up the room before they leave for home. "Fuck, I'm gonna regret this tomorrow so bad," he winces, stretching his arms. "Yuu said I couldn't do ten pull ups, but fuck him, I did it, man."

"That would've really helped your NAFTA last year," Link says with raised eyebrows and Lavi huffs.

"Whatever. It's totally unfair. Yuu's a monster at this kind of stuff."

"Which is precisely why you shouldn't kill yourself trying to prove him wrong," Link rolls his eyes. "He's just baiting you, you know."

"Baiting? Nah, I doubt that. Yuu's just a stubborn prick who thinks I can't do anything."

"I can say the same for you."

"Shut up, prez. You have absolutely no right to say I'm stubborn after you ran that marathon with the sprained ankle."

"As the president I couldn't possibly—"

"I rest my case."

Two months pass by faster than one would expect as usual, and Lavi brightens up at the prospect of the March holidays closing in. One week of holidays isn't much, but at least it's a break from the lectures and tutorials which are honestly too boring for words—teachers were already starting to slip in revision for last year's topics, and Lavi remembers all of them just fine. Maybe he should start on Tomb Raider: Guardian of the Light once the last Friday of the term comes. But all those plans, of course, shatters when Fou hands him a paper to fill in after training one day.

(He's getting the hold of tacking, of which he can't help and grin when he doesn't capsize. Kanda ignores his victories, the stupid jerk.)

"Mikk thinks it's too early for you to join the upcoming regatta but I think it's good experience anyhow," she says. "You can use the school boat, though I think shorty and pretty boy will use their own."

Lavi glances at the form and blinks. "Five days?" A boat race over five days?

"Got a problem with that?" Fou cocks her head threateningly, but soothes into a grin after. "Get used to it, Red. I know you've only sailed for a max three hours at ago, so this will be tough. Ah shit, you don't know the racing flags, do you? Remind me next week. Just sign the form and give it to the reception for now."

Lavi sees that he doesn't actually have a choice in this. "Well. Okay."

One thing about sea sports—they are entirely dependent on the weather. If the tide is too low they can't launch their boats. If the wind is too light, it's useless too. When it storms—especially with lightning—there is absolutely no way anyone is allowed on the water. Unfortunately, or fortunately, the humid country is prone to rain on and off again, and next week sees them sitting around a table at the sailing center with cards in Allen's hand.

Tyki is seated at the table next to theirs absorbed into his book, lazily flicking the pages.

"Is this what you guys do when it rains?" Lavi asks as Allen shuffles his deck of cards expertly with a smile that seemed way too happy.

"Generally, yeah," Allen nods, never once looking at the cards he manipulates in his hands. "Or homework, but I don't want to do homework today. Let's play poker."

"Fuck no, not that shitty game."

"Don't be a baby, Kanda," Allen smirks.

"Cheater."

"Sore-loser."

"It's not losing when you fucking cheat."

"You were the dealer the other time, how could I have possibly cheated?" Allen says with an air of innocence, and Kanda growls.

"Hate to break into your gambling den, but training is still on, you brats," Fou huffs when she stomps over to them, shoving herself into their table. She also drops a slightly tattered book in the midst of them all. "The regatta is next week."

"And?" Kanda scoffs.

"And Red here needs to get up on speed with the rules," Fou finishes. "Which one of you kids got a pencil?"

Allen produces one, and Fou opens up the book to a blank page.

"Alright, Red, pay attention." The female couch draws four circles in the shape of a rhombus. "So far you've sailed the triangle course, but typically in regattas they'll put a square course. It's about the same—you start from the first buoy and zig zag up north towards the second buoy that will be placed in the direction of the wind, head to the third buoy on your right with a reach, leeward down to the forth buoy, and turn back towards the first buoy. Two rounds of this before you cross the finishing line. This is considered one race. The committee boat, this one here," she doodles a vague triangle near the starting point, "Will decide how many races you'll do a day. This is where the flags are important."

She flips the book several pages over.

"At the beginning of each race the space between the committee boat and the first buoy is the starting line," she explains. "We don't have time to practice your starts, but it's relatively simple. Stay behind the invisible line it until it's time. The first flag will go up with a horn when it's 5 minutes to start—they'll fly a white triangular flag with a red dot. At four minutes, they'll raise another flag below it. Now, this flag will tell you what you have to do if you across the start line before the start signal."

On the page that Fou points to are a blue flag with a white square, a yellow flag with a black circle and black flag.

"If you cross over the line accidentally, I'd just recommend that you sail to buoy or to the committee boat and tack around it to go back down. If you cross the line when the black flag is flown, then uh," she coughs. "Don't bother with the race—you're disqualified."

"That's harsh."

"Yeah, but it gets annoying when there are too many over excited idiots crossing the line," she rolls her eyes. "One minute before start another horn will sound. When it's the start signal, another horn, and this time, the flags will be lowered. Got that?"

"Yeah. Start flag, penalty flag, actual start. Pretty much."

"Hm," Fou nods, pleased that she doesn't have to repeat it again. "Good. There are tons of other flags that shorty or pretty boy can share with you but these are the only ones you really need to know. And of course for the finishing line, look for the committee boat—it'll be flying a blue flag this time. Just sail between it and the last buoy. And you're done."

"Great."

"No pressure on rankings, Red," Fou grins. "Just focus on getting through the races."

Lavi shrugs, smiling. "There's no time limit right? I might manage somehow."

"I'm sure you will," Allen puts in encouragingly.

Kanda, unfortunately, will never do the same. "Are you sure you can even get past the starting line?"

Lavi sours, and narrows his eye. "You know I can—you've been a boat with me for weeks! You've seen me progress! I can tack now!"

"Wow you can fucking tack," Kanda mutters sarcastically. "I didn't see anything but the fucking water you keep capsizing into!"

"I'm working on that!"

The first day of the regatta starts on the Saturday morning right when the holidays are supposed to begin, and Lavi stifles his yawn into his arm as he groggily rigs up his boat. Beside him Allen and Kanda are already almost done with theirs. Lavi shivers as the wind blows up against his short sleeved shirt; he's half eyeing the long sleeved watersuits that the other two sailors wear. But then the heat could turn up insane in the afternoon and he'd rather not bake in the sun, thank you very much.

The sailing centre is a lot busier than he's used to. It's generally pretty quiet on their training days, sometimes with another bunch of teens from other schools he's not arsed to learn. But today the place is packed with parents and teens and children, and he sees kids half his height carrying smaller sails on their shoulders and walking towards a boxier shaped boat known as the optimist.

The scent of salt and sunblock is strong in the air, and Lavi leans back and groans when he realises his mainsheet is twisted. With a sigh he unknots the figure of eight at the end of the rope and restarts looping the rope through the pulleys.

Allen is munching on some bread leaning on his own boat when Lavi is done.

"Want some?" The younger offers up a tupperware that seems to hold more bread inside it.

"I'm too nervous to eat," Lavi admits, waving it away.

"Nonsense, you'll need the energy," Allen presses, taking out sausage bun and pressing it into the redhead's hand.

"Hm."

Lavi looks at the bread in his hand and shrugs, taking a chew from it. He has his own food box tied to the hiking straps in his boat—it's ridiculous but he's going to be out in the freaking sea for the whole entire day; the heat might just be overkill to his brain. Allen wisely has tucked his hair underneath a cap. In fact, the white haired boy is so covered up with his long sleeved wetsuit, gloves, hiking gear and booties that Lavi gets why the boy can stay so pale. But in exchange for sweating like a pig in this weather? No thanks.

A strong gust of wind blows by and the sails rattle, jangling Lavi's nerves at the same time. It's normal that he's feeling a little jittery about this regatta; it's his first after all. It's not the first time Lavi's competed in anything—he has won plenty awards for writing stuff, but perhaps, it is his first official sport competition. He doesn't have any delusions that he's going to win anything, of course not, he's just picked it up like two months ago. However Lavi does hope he's not the last—because he's got a point to prove to one Yuu Kanda.

Speaking of whom, the pro sailor has gone and returned to his boat in full gear sticking to his muscled thighs. Lavi would say something, except a loud long horn sounds throughout the air, a signal to get to the water. Hurriedly he stuffs the rest of Allen's bread into his mouth and grabs his boat trolley.

They take a while to await their turn to unload their boats at the beach, but once they're in the water, barely a few minutes later sees that they're off toward the open sea. Maybe why Lavi is so nervous is because it's essentially the first time he's sailing alone—Kanda would normally be in the boat glaring at him, but today the front of his boat is empty.

It's half a relief but also not, because Kanda has been directing him all the time. It's just him and the boat today.

Sit forward, sheet in, hike out.

It becomes a mantra he repeats in his head when he's in the boat, and his sail catches wind. Allen and Kanda are already predictably ahead of him, boats leaving white foam over the surface of the water as they speed forward.

The wind feels a lot stronger today, and Lavi grits his teeth to hold his sail where it is, biceps straining against the force. His whole body is out of the boat too, in the attempt to keep the balance. Once or twice the boat tips towards his sail but he manages somehow, letting out his sail when he spots his team mates waiting with a mass of other boats around.

His boat sprays a bit of water as his sail luffs in the wind to come to a halt, bumping up and down with the waves.

Kanda is looking over at him and Lavi cocks a questioning eyebrow. "What?"

"Tighten your kicker."

"Why?"

"Tch. Forget it."

"The wind is strong today," Allen cuts in to explain, rolling his eyes. "It'll help to flatten your sail, makes it easier for you to handle the wind."

"Oh."

Lavi gingerly stretches to reach for the small rope at the mast, and ducks sharply when the boom comes closer to the centre of the boat thanks to the waves bumping his hull towards the direction of the wind. Allen chuckles and sails around him to come to a closer stop next to him to help him steady the boat. Kanda gives them a scoff before settling down into his boat, ignoring them.

The waves are choppy and it takes a couple of tries before Lavi manages to yank the kicker down more. By now they are in the middle of a fleet of other bytes, all with the orange topped sails like them.

"Yo, Kanda!"

"Fuck," Lavi hears Kanda mutter to himself as the pro sailor tries to lean further down into his boat, pretending that he didn't hear anything.

"Jap! I know ya heard me!" The yell continues, and Lavi blinks as another byte comes in to where they are, expertly stopping right beside Kanda's boat.

"Don't touch my fucking boat, dweeb," Kanda snaps, suddenly sitting upright and hastily grabbing his mainsheet.

"Hey—HEY! WE'RE GONNA KICK YOUR ASS THIS TIME!" the boy shouts as Kanda sails his boat away with a backward middle finger.

Another byte suddenly comes splashing beside them, the owner sliding his fingers over the other boy's boat. "Where's the Jap?"

"Sailing away like a fucking coward," the boy grins.

From afar, an echo of fuck you resonates in the air.

Lavi now sees that the two other sailors are tanned. Extremely tanned, in fact, going by the shade of their skin.

"Oh, Al! Didn't see ya there!" the black haired one suddenly turns to them, eyes bright.

The other is a blonde, long hair scrunched behind him in a ponytail. "It must've been your height—I totally passed over ya!"

"Very funny, guys," Allen rolls his eyes.

"You know we love ya, Brit," the brunette wiggles his fingers. "Who's the redhead behind ya? Woah, Jaz, check it out, he's half blind!"

"Shit, you're right. Ya think he's any good?"

"Cut it out," Allen huffs. "He's Lavi—and new, so back off."

"Whatev'," the blonde dismisses, waving his hand. "Let's go, Debs. I see Mada in the distance."

"Psych. Catch ya later at the finishing line, little man!"

Allen sighs when the two boats sail off in some direction, dangerously weaving through the other bytes bobbing on the water surface around.

"They don't look like it, but they're twins," Allen speaks up as Lavi gazes after the boats, confused. "The blonde's Jasdero, the brunette, Debitto. They're actually Mr Mikk's nephews."

"Seriously?"

"Unfortunately."

"So…how do you and Yuu know them?"

"They're on the same team as us. Not our school team but the, uh, other team," Allen clarifies.

"Pro sailors too?"

"Yep."

Lavi bites his lip. "…I'm gonna be last in the race, aren't I?"

Allen chuckles. "Nah, there are always a couple of new sailors in every race. You'll be fine."

Lavi, for some reason, does not believe him.

When the first horn blares, Lavi jolts and starts the timer on his watch.

Five minutes to start.

He tenses and makes to sheet in, but Allen taps his boat and shakes his head.

"Five minutes is actually plenty of time," the younger says, relaxed in his boat. "If you get too near the start line too soon, the current will push you over. Just follow my lead."

Lavi thanks god for having such an awesome junior like Allen—so unlike his other teammate who he hasn't seen since the other escaped from the twins. Three minutes to start is when Allen gestures that they should make a move.

"Alright. You might lose me at the start line, but just remember what you've learnt and you're good. I'll find you later. Good luck!"

Lavi nods, and Allen is off faster than he can blink. Wearily he makes his own move, inching closer to the start line, but by now all the other boats are clamouring in front of him. Several curses fill the air as the current pushes some boats over.

"Hey—hey! Starboard! STARBOARD! TACK BEFORE I CRASH INTO YOU, IDIOT!"

A byte rushes towards him, and Lavi hastens to tack, causing him to veer further downwards away from the start line. He grinds his teeth and bears away, trying to steer his boat back up.

Another horn sounds. One minute to start.

The cursings at the start line gets louder. Lavi can't see much except for the mass of boats all trying to squeeze against each other, and because he's behind all of the boats, there is insufficient wind in his sail to move him forward.

10.

9.

8.

7.

Lavi groans and bears away as much as he can, and abruptly catches too much wind.

6.

5.

4.

3.

2.

He reaches the committee boat and is forced to tack before he goes away from the start line.

1.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP

By some miracle he manages to cross the line just on time, but the only unfortunate thing is that he's at the end of the line furthest away from the north buoy. The wind blows hard against his face, and he grips his mainsheet tighter.

Tell tails, check. Boom to the corner of the stern, check.

White caps on the waves beat harshly against his boat, but Lavi trudges on, holding tight even as the wind speed picks up, tipping his boat again. One thing about strong wind is that even for an inexperienced sailor like him, the boat goes fast enough to seem like he's not lagging too much behind, but it makes tacking extremely difficult.

On the first tack, his boom swings over so violently that he doesn't have enough time to get over to the other side and capsizes.

The cool water seeps through his eyepatch and Lavi struggles to get to the hull so that he can upright the boat. It makes him feel slightly better that there are a couple of other capsized boats around. It is somehow harder to move in the water today, probably the strong current, but he's done this far too many times over the past weeks.

He gets up on board and is off again, heading towards the buoy.

In the distance he can already see several bytes that have rounded the first buoy, but he's too far away to see who it is. Nonetheless, he ploughes on, running through Fou's instructions—sheet in, hike out, watch the buoy.

The second tack he takes, he's more wary and prepared. He's half way across the boat before he actually points his rudder, but the wind is still strong enough to tip the boat to a dangerous balance. He gets to the buoy eventually, and eases out his sail like he's done so for the past million times.

Except this time the sail suddenly swings over and the next thing Lavi knows it, he's in the water.

"God—damn—it!"

Several hard won minutes later he's back up and sailing across to the second buoy. Reaches are the easiest to sail and Lavi gets to the third buoy gripping his fingers tight on the rudder and mainsheet. From there he bears away to sail downwind along with the course—but doesn't expect his boat to tip forwards, hull dragging into the water. Warily he shifts backwards but water is sloshing into his boat and when a large wave splashes in, it catches him off guard. He slackens the grip on the mainsheet in surprise, and the boat drags forward with the sudden extra wind caught.

"Shit—"

And its salt water again, this time in his mouth. Lavi coughs hoarsely, spitting the water out. His boat bobs with the large waves as he scrambles to get a hold of it before the boat drifts away with the current.

Fuck, why was the wind particularly difficult to handle today?

"DO YOUR PENALTY, JAP, OR ELSE I'M GONNA PROTEST!"

"GO AHEAD FUCKER! I WAS IN THE FUCKING RIGHT OF WAY!"

"Dear god, who cares?" Allen groans, sitting legs up in his boat. "It was after the finishing line anyway."

"HE SCRATCHED MY BOAT! YOU SAW IT TOO, RIGHT, JAZZY?"

"I SURE DID YOU LYING JAP!"

"FUCKING BLIND ASSHOLES—I DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH YOUR FUCKING BOAT—"

Allen picks up his mainsheet and sails a distance away from the row between the twins and Kanda. There are about ten boats around, with more coming in from the back as other sailor cross the finishing line. Generally he knows most of the sailors who finish fast because they're in the same international team, but today it takes him a while before he spots two bytes drifting lazily together that he recognizes.

"Hey," he greets the male figure in one chewing a banana, and the other, a pretty light-haired girl dozing off without a care.

The two them look the most alike with their quiet demeanours: Madaro and Tewaku, both of whom come from family of sailors.

Madaro cocks his gaze over and nods. "Who was first?"

Allen scowls and jabs his thumb toward the noisy trio he left behind still yelling at each other, in particular towards the Asian.

The other sailor nods again in acknowledgement but otherwise eats another mouth of the fruit. A couple of seconds pass before Madaro rummages in his boat and hold out a banana towards Allen. Allen beams.

"The wind is unusually strong today. It picked up even more when I was halfway through the course," Allen comments as he bites the fruit, taking half clean off. "Strange, isn't it? It's not even monsoon season."

Madaro shrugs and looks into the distance. "Kiredori and Tokusa are probably dying out there."

"Hm. I hope my friend is alright too."

Lavi's capsized at least ten times in the leeward course and he isn't even halfway through the race. Breathing heavily he sits back in his boat with his sail luffing in the wind, tired. The sky is clear but the sea seems to be getting rougher, waves billowing around his boat. He barely manages to duck when the boom swings further to the center of the boat, being pushed by the current. The rudder is particularly difficult to steer against the water. With a sigh he sits back up to the side of the boat and bears away, turning his boat back downwind. There's no use sitting like a duck in the water—he has to complete the race somehow.

The wind catches, his boat tips. He struggles to lean backward, but the wind is unrelentingly strong. A waves bumps him from behind and the tiny release he makes with the mainsheet loosens the sail just enough to catch too much wind—and just like that, capsize number eleven.

Lavi's not a weak swimmer by the constant exertion and the strong current sees him wading desperately to reach his boat. With every kick he makes towards it, the current pushes it two paces away. Water splashes into his mouth again, and he coughs, feeling slightly dizzy.

His boat drifts further away.

"Have you seen Lavi? I don't see his boat."

Allen surveys the area where they have already de-rigged their boats, others queuing in line at the hose to rinse themselves.

Kanda shrugs uncaringly and hauls his lifejacket over his shoulder. "Wait for him if you want. I'm leaving."

Allen tosses him a glare but whatever he intended to say is cut off by a call towards them.

"Boys," Fou stalks to them, cheeks looking slightly burnt from the sun. "Is Red still here?"

Allen shakes his head. "We haven't seen him."

"Hm, he's probably home, then," Fou muses.

"So fast?" Allen blinks. "But Kanda and I were the first ones back to shore—"

"He forfeited, I think. Check the rankings for me," Fou scratches the back of her head. "I saw his boat being towed to shore towards the end of the first race. Well, it got up to 26 knots today. Can't have been easy," she shrugs. "Tell him to find me tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Oh by the way, pretty boy," Fou stops in her paces as she was leaving to grin widely. "Your dad's here."

"…Tch."

Lavi doesn't turn up the next day.

Or the next.

Or the next.

On the last day of the regatta Kanda watches Allen trying to call Lavi's number to no avail. He thinks it's stupid for Allen to even bother—I mean, seriously. The bean should just learn to read the fucking signs.

"Beansprout, let's fucking get to the water," he grinds out impatiently.

"Wait, last try, I promise," Allen holds up a finger, and Kanda groans.

"The fucking coward doesn't want to talk to you," he snaps. "He gave up, so should you."

Allen shushes him again, and Kanda picks up his boat trolley to get to the beach. Hell, he'll just bully some idiot in the water to hold his boat while he affixes the rudder.

What ever happened to proving him wrong, huh.

Fucking liar.

The new school term starts, but there are no trainings for the week as they usually get the week after a regatta off, not even his weekend trainings. In Kanda's room there is a shiny new trophy to match the other shiny medals, not that he feels particularly happy about it—it's just a given, you know, that he'd win something. He always has, for the past few years now.

However there is much to be desired on the flip side, aka academics. There are always tests in the first week of a new term—always fucking tests, and Kanda cracks his brain trying to remember the formula for a nitrate and hydroxide reaction. He yawns, but all that comes to his brain is the formula for integration. He's not to blame, since math is tested tomorrow. He ends up scrawling some sort of equation, maybe he'll get marks somewhere somehow, and at the end of the day, he lies on one of the canteen benches with his eyes closed.

He doesn't want to go home and study—he's really rather be out at sea, but it's just too bad they're given a break. It's only a Wednesday, there's still like, five more days before he can get to the sea.

But first, he needs to get through the stupid tests.

It's not that Kanda's stupid, but academics isn't his strong suit. He's alright with math and physics but chemistry is a barely there and he's terrible with economics. He's quite sure he failed the economics test on Monday, but fuck it, there wasn't time to cram for it, not when he had a five day regatta over the holidays.

He'll just do…something when the actual A levels arrive.

The canteen is quiet since most students are in the library or at home studying for the tests, but there is one other person who's queuing at one of the food stalls. It's an odd hour to eat—it's about three, which is neither lunch or tea, but then again, the beansprout eats like, every minute. The student buys two curry puffs and wanders to the table next to Kanda's to sit down.

It's not that he wants to notice it, but Kanda knows who this guy is, although it is only by face, because he's the student council president. If Kanda thinks hard enough he might know the other's name, but honestly he doesn't care. But what he really notices is not the president's face, but the suspicious lack of redhead around him. Lavi's always next to this guy before he comes over to bother Kanda during break sometimes.

Come to think of it, he didn't see Lavi in the hall either during the economics test on Monday.

"Where's the idiot?"

Kanda curses himself for opening his mouth—it wasn't intended in the least.

Link pauses in mid bite in his curry puff, eyes sliding over to the sailor. It's the first time Kanda has ever spoken to the blond, but Link doesn't seem ruffled in the least. "Who are you referring to?"

Kanda huffs. "The guy always around you."

Link just looks at him questioningly, and Kanda knows it's a fucking lie.

"Lavi," he grinds out reluctantly.

The blond then takes a bite from his pastry, chewing it. "He's at home," he says calmly. "Says he isn't feeling so well."

"Bullshit," Kanda mutters under his breath.

Ditching four days of regatta plus the weekend and three days of school? Unless it's the fucking Dengue, Kanda won't believe the damn truant. Whatever. He'll think about the loss of the sailing member after the tests. He needs to go home and study.

But before he stands up and grabs his bag, Link says his name.

"Kanda."

How the president actually knows his name, he is a bit suspicious. "What?"

Link holds out a folder. "Pass this to him."

Kanda squints at the post it note tacked on it that says project work. "No. I don't know where the idiot lives anyway."

A second later another post it note is tacked into the folder; it's an address.

"I don't want it. Give it to him yourself."

"Can't," Link says, completely unperturbed. "I have council duties today."

"I need to fucking study."

"Then give it to him tomorrow."

"You give it when he comes tomorrow."

Link presses his lips together and puts the folder on the table. "You and I know that he won't be coming tomorrow," he murmurs, standing up. With a sigh he grabs his bag and plastic bag of pastries, looking at his watch. "I need to go. Get it to him by the weekend—he needs to do those before next week."

"I never agreed to—"

But Link is gone before Kanda can complete his sentence.

A/N: The NAFTA (National Aerobics & Fitness Trainers Association) test that Link referred to is a fitness test we have to take each year (till high school) and you get awarded gold, silver, bronze, pass or fail. If you fail one section you fail the entire test. In general, boys struggle with the pull ups. I, personally, struggle with the 2.4km run haha.

Also: my attempt at incorporating Link into my fics. I'm trying him out here to get a feel of him, comments would be valuable!