nor any drop to drink
Clearly the best way to make Rin and Haru work out their issues is to lock them in a closet after the prefectural relay. Clearly.
'“Makoto didn’t hurt you when he threw you in here, did he?”
Rin snorted. “Makoto couldn’t hurt a fly.” That guy hadn’t changed a bit in four years. Actually, now that he thought of it, none of them had, and maybe that was the problem. Haru was still more interested in water than people, Makoto was still too damn sweet and selfless for his own good, and Nagisa still behaved like he’d drunk six cups of coffee and chased them with a handful of amphetamines. They expected Rin to be the same dopey, clingy, obnoxiously idealistic kid he’d been in sixth grade and didn’t understand that he had moved on, left that stupid boy behind to win last place at every race. There was no room for sentimental crybabies in the Olympics. Unlike the rest of them, he’d actually grown up, which made all the more pathetic the fact that he was standing here crossing and uncrossing his legs and trying not to think about how screwed he was if his bladder popped like an overinflated balloon.'
(nutrition facts: 90% plot, 10% pee.)
We Are Burning Stars