"You know, you really ought to stretch before diving in," Dr. Tachibana chided.
Haru grunted noncommittally, stretching out on the massage table. His muscles ached, but any time not spent swimming was time wasted. Having constant access to indoor pools and training facilities in the lead-up to the Olympics meant he did little else.
"Not even going to make excuses this time?"
"Coach wants me to practice as much as possible," Haru said halfheartedly.
Dr. Tachibana chuckled. "Of course. Well, I'm here to fix you up, so I guess there's no real harm." Dr. Tachibana's warm, callused hands made contact with Haru's back. Gentle pressure to get him started. "Just make sure to take care of yourself."
"I eat mackerel every morning."
Dr. Tachibana just sighed, kneading the knots in Haru's back. His muscles remained stiff, but he could feel a little of the tension leaving him. A noise generator in the corner played the sound of ocean waves lapping against a shore—a track picked specifically for him, undoubtedly.
Broad-fingered hands kneaded across his back, rolling over the sore, overworked muscle. Haru let the muscles relax, slowly sinking into the cushioned table. The air smelled comfortingly like chlorine; he felt as though warm water had begun to wash over him rather than the doctor's hands.
In truth, few people actually touched him. Even Kou, his coach, rarely patted him on the back. Only the water embraced him. He felt welcomed and loved only in the water—and here.
"Ah, now there's a knot," Dr. Tachibana worked it away with firm and capable hands. "Better?"
"Mm."
The tautness of his muscles left him by degrees. Drowsiness washed in along with the relaxation, and his eyes slipped closed.
Makoto shook his head when he heard the now-familiar sound of Nanase's snoring. No sense in waking him—he might've swum nonstop for twelve or more hours. Instead, he left the ocean soundtrack running and gave Nanase an extra twenty minutes of massage before covering him with a blanket and settling back in a nearby chair.
Doctors weren't supposed to have favorites. Well, so he always told himself. But, looking at the serene expression on Nanase's face, he couldn't help but smile.