Chapter One: Anything But Water!

Mizuki Watanabe dreamed of the dolphin again. It was always the same dream, one so vivid that when she awoke she was tangled in her sheets, disoriented and filled with annoyance.

She's currently looking out over the wave-scarred ocean. The new semester's opening assembly at school was a drag. Around her, fellow students pass by and above, a bird streaks across the slowly deepening sky.

The tide is coming in, carrying seashells and driftwood tumbling to the shore. She can't identify with the bottle-nose dolphin in her dreams.

"The water is too cold," Mizuki says aloud, feeling the urge to break the silence. "It's always too cold." She wrinkles her nose when a fresh wave of water reaches her feet, pulling back in time. With a ragged sigh, the fear from her dream resurfaces.

Unlike that dolphin, I'm the most miserable when I'm in the water, Mizuki thinks, her heart filling with dread. It's been eight years since she developed a phobia for water; strong waves or deep waters, swimming pools, bathtubs and the like. Just thinking of entering the water brings shivers up her spine.

Eight years spans a good half of her life, considering she only lived for sixteen.

After she'd been diagnosed with aquaphobia, her parents invested large sums in therapy, but it had little to no effect. She's content dedicating her life avoiding water altogether. "Then, why? Why do I feel like I'm missing out? Is it even possible for me to swim without a shred of fear, like that dolphin in my dream?"

Suddenly, her large hazel eyes are focused on something in the water. Mizuki arches on tiptoe at the water's edge, peering into the ocean. Then she sees it clearly. A large dark object floating at the surface not more than fifty feet out.

It's not a shark.

She squints.

It could be just trash.

Intrigued by the shadowy object bobbing on the waves, she lets out a gasp; it's a person! A boy—and he looks to be unconscious. Her breath catches in her throat as her eyes wildly scan the beach.

"Help!" she cries out. "Anyone, please!"

No such luck.

"Oh, fudge nuggets!" she swears under her breath, taking off her shoes, and coils her long light brown hair in a twist at the top of her head, then walks into the ocean. Her confidence melts like snow before the sun as the water rushes over her feet, and reluctantly, she shrinks back. A wave carries the body closer and Mizuki's stomach clenches at the sight.

I can just wait till he washes up, she silently prays, then changes her mind. What am I thinking? It'll be too late! I have to act now.

She's breaking into a cold sweat at the thought of hauling him in, and that means stepping into the water. She looks over the surface of the water, then begins wading towards the boy. The water, now reaching above her knees, is something horrible, threatening to rise and envelop her. She can feel an edge of panic trying to take over, but the anger building inside her rises to the surface, and before she knows it Mizuki jumps in, shattering the water into a milky cloud of tiny bubbles.

A wave of dizziness overcomes her, and for a few seconds it looks like she will drown, as shallow as the water is. Nevertheless, the attempted rescue is a success and she drags the boy ashore. For a long minute she drops there in the sand and chokes, sucking in air that burns her throat.

Mizuki shakes heavy tangles of hair out of her face and shivers; it really is too cold for a swim in the ocean. Struggling to fight her sudden dizziness, she focuses on the task at hand, immediately performing CPR and heart massage on the unconscious male.

Her mother—head nurse of the intensive care unit at the children's hospital—taught Mizuki the basics on what to do in a situation like this.

The victim suddenly lunges forward, blinks confused, then shakes the excess water out of his hair like a dog. His eyes are blue; blue as the ocean itself—blue as the blue we see in a sapphire gemstone. A misty and shady blue, that has no beginning or surface, and is looked into rather than at.

"Are you alright? You scared me half to death," she says, surprised at how calm her voice sounds. The boy parts his lips, and says nothing. A chilly wind blows, causing the soaked girl to shiver in her wet school uniform to the very marrow of her bones.

"What happened?"

"I went for a swim," he says with a straight face.

"Obviously!" Mizuki gets up on her feet feeling gross all over. "I thought you were…" There is a pause, and then her voice comes back, all angry. "That was a stupid thing to do. It's way too cold to swim in the ocean."

"Judging by your wet and disheveled appearance, you went for a little swim yourself. Besides, you don't own the ocean, so I'm free to do what I want," he clicks his tongue in an annoyed manner, losing interest quickly.

Mizuki gapes. "I-I did, didn't I?" she stutters, only now realizing what she has done. "I jumped in to save—" she stops talking, and as of this moment she's seized with a panic of anxiety; she feels the air being squeezed out of her lungs, wheezing heavily.

He gazes at her in confusion, utterly discomposed, as if a ghost has appeared from the ground before him. Mizuki doesn't know what she did after. She must have laughed, then fainted.

She wakes up in her own bed with her mother, Carla, in the room, opening the curtains. "Time for school." Mizuki moans, burying her head in the pillow. Once Carla tells her the time, she falls out of bed and gets dressed in record time.

Mizuki flings down the stairs and out into the streets. She's lost in thought-so deep in contemplation that she nearly runs straight into someone. He didn't see her on time and bumps into her hard, nearly knocking her down.

"Ah geez, I'm so sorry," Makoto Tachibana is the first to speak after he helps her up, handing over her school bag. "You alright?"

"I-I'm fine. Thank you," she answers, glancing at the road and then back at Makoto. The expression on his face suggests he doesn't believe her.

"You sure?"

He pushes Mizuki's hair back from her forehead, feeling for a temperature. She grows nervously impatient; they'd only met yesterday at the opening ceremony, and yet here he is, acting as if they're the best of friends.

"Your fever's gone down, at least." He smiles, his two great green eyes glowing like emeralds.

Mizuki squints at him, utterly confused. "I'm… going now," she says to him, before he'll offer to walk with her. Despite feeling a bit dejected—because she's right to interrupt his offer, Makoto keeps his gorgeous smile and waves after her.

"See you later!"

"You're talking to yourself now?" Haruka appears behind his best friend, jump-scaring Makoto. "Your behavior worries me."

The gentle giant sighs with sagged shoulders. "The unhealthy amount of time you spend in the bathtub is more worrisome," he counters. "Besides, I wasn't talking to myself."

With a friendly pat on the back, "I talk to the water sometimes, when I'm alone." Haruka shares a secret and walks off. Makoto just stares at Haruka's retreating back, too tired to say anything.

— — — — —

Break time. As everyone begins filtering out the classroom for lunch, Mizuki sits at her desk with her flavored soy milk and chicken sandwich. The whole rescuing thing feels dreamlike now. She was underwater, trying to save that boy. It's possible that part could have been… a hallucination.

Mizuki takes a few greedy gulps from the milk, then wipes her mouth with a napkin. What was up with that kid in his swimming trunks, anyway?

Someone calls out, a guy's voice. "Hey there!" She spins around, clutching her sandwich, and manages to blink. Makoto stands near her desk, casually offering her some squid strips. "Want some?"

The whole nightmare had been rough, submerging herself into the dark, salty waters of the ocean, with her coughing up all the gross water in her system—it made her feel queasy just thinking about it. She deserves a little reward. Hesitantly, Mizuki reaches out for one and then proceeds to nibble in total bliss.

"Help yourself with the rest," Makoto insists with a chuckle, taking in the adorable image of Mizuki's content expression. "My friends weren't hungry for it."

"Your friends?" she pauses, licking her greasy fingers, and wipes them on a napkin.

"Ah, those two," Makoto points at his friends—one is plastered up against the window in the hall, looking like a caged up animal in a zoo, and another is drinking his bottled water, all composed and calm.

"She's so cute, Mako-chan!" Nagisa bounces into the classroom in a comical way, his round, pink eyes bright and sparkling like beads. "What's the catch?"

"There is no catch," Makoto retorts quickly.

"So you go up to every girl and offer them food, not asking anything in return? No favors? Seems like a total waste."

"I'm just trying to be nice," Makoto smiles, and it lit his whole face, reaching deep into his eyes, "So, what's your relationship with Mako-chan~" but he face-palms when Nagisa grabs a chair and sits across from a clueless Mizuki, getting all up in her face.

Then she sees Haruka appear from behind his tall friend. "I see you're up and about," he says, sounding a bit uncaring.

"Ah!" she exclaims and jumps up, her chair screeching across the floor. "I apologize if this might sound a bit strange, but you're the blue-eyed boy from my dream. The one that drowned."

Nagisa bites back a startled laugh at her words. Makoto gives her an awkward smile. "That really happened, Watanabe-san. When I went to check up on Haru yesterday, you were there as well. I ended up carrying you home."

Mizuki gapes at Haru. He just nods. She transfers her gaping expression to Makoto. No wonder he was so concerned this morning!

"You're catching flies, darling," Nagisa says. She snaps her mouth shut. Facing Haru once again, she recovers and manages an unsteady smile, hoping her face doesn't show how sick she feels from recalling yesterday's events.

Just look at his face, she breaths through her nose. Big mistake. Those blue orbs of his make her stomach twist and turn; she's getting seasick.

Not expecting it, a clear, bright spray of water splashes in her face.

Makoto gapes in horror.

Nagisa beams with excitement.

Unable to speak or think, Mizuki struggles in vain to keep back her tears, and now panic—sheer, unreasoning panic—fills her. She snatches the bottle from his grasp and dumps the last amount of water on Haruka. He's suddenly overcome by a feeling of bliss–absolute bliss!–as though he's swimming in a never-ending pool.

Mizuki stomps past while Makoto gazes at her steadily with his gentle, green eyes, a worried frown forming on his forehead.