119During Volume 11 Chapter 8
It was something worse than trust. It was something even worse than reliance, which is built on a twisted form of trust.
It brought on a combination of confusion, hesitation, and above all, emptiness.
Yet, even as I sat still, the girl who could wait no longer started to move.
Snow had fallen thickly, beyond the expectations of the weatherman. Coldness crunched under our shoes. Lifting a foot would draw up a bundle of white. Yet, the hustle and bustle of the day was not only unimpeded, it was greater than that of the previous day. The day was special, and today's name was Valentine's Day.
I followed Yuigahama's back as we navigated through the crowds. This formation was unavoidable. It wasn't possible to wade through side-by-side.
Road, crowds, train, crowds. Everything, everywhere was so stuffy and nauseating. People did their own business, looking forward to their own plans. They would push and shove each other if they had to. With my personal space being continually violated, I could hardly tell where my own self began and where it ended.
Maybe we could have avoided the crowds. I could have woken Yuigahama earlier. I could have suggested an alternative path. But I didn't. The agenda was solely in the hands of Yuigahama.
Finally, we reached the entrance of the aquarium, where Yuigahama and I were to spend our time. Yuigahama stopped walking. She suggested that we wait. At first, I had thought that she was being considerate of me and my low stamina. Then, when the inactivity continued for fifteen minutes more, I began to wonder what her intention was.
"Hikki!"
Then came the unexpected, so much so that I doubted my ears. I turned my body. Entering my vision was Hikigaya Hachiman. For a mere instance, I caught sight of his nervous smile, unsettled with anticipation. However, the moment he met my eyes, all traces of his smile were dropped, replaced with confusion.
I murmured in questioning, "Hikigaya-kun…"
"Yukinoshita came here as well?" he said, dumbfounded.
As well. That meaning was explicit. There was an unintended third-party. Perhaps Yuigahama had forgotten, and she had made arrangements with Hikigaya on Valentine's Day. It was not unusual for a boy and a girl to meet up on a day such as this.
My chest felt like it was being jammed in with a rock. I rationalized it as the awkwardness of being a third wheel. It was the only reasonable explanation.
"Uh, um… I-If you two had plans, then I shall go back…" I spoke.
Yuigahama cut in, "It's fine! Let's go have fun together!"
I attempted to turn away, but Yuigahama latched onto my arm with one of her hands. Her other hand was gripping Hikigaya's sleeve.
Yuigahama hung her head. Then, she brought my hand and Hikigaya's hand to her chest, cradling them like jewels.
"I want the three of us to go together…"
Her voice was so silent, so ephemeral, that the slightest breeze would have erased the sound.
Hikigaya and I looked at each other, unable to speak. We were almost fearful that any tiny excuse that we could come up with would shatter the fragile form between us.
Yuigahama lifted her head and gazed at us with motherly gentleness. It needn't be said that this is what she truly wanted. Perhaps she didn't tell me to circumvent any reservations I may have had. Maybe she wanted me to realize something. Whatever the reason, I had no particular issues with this arrangement. I let out a sigh and nodded.
Hikigaya averted his eyes — but not in rejection.
"This, is this really fine?" he asked.
His eyes were distant. Recollection was their focus, a vision that I could never see.
Trembling, Yuigahama replied, "Yes, this is fine."
Yuigahama stared at Hikigaya, her shoulders shaking. It was doubtful whether she was truly fine with that something. I would never be able to find out, because it was something that the two of them held sacred, held secret.
How painful it might be, I could understand. Between Hikigaya and I, there were also things that I could not speak of to Yuigahama.
"I see," replied Hikigaya.
"Yup! There's no need to worry about snow here. It would be great if everyone here can have fun!" cheerfully spoke Yuigahama.
Yuigahama shifted gears. Whatever she had intended, she at least wanted to enjoy it. If enjoyment was one of Yuigahama's desires, then I would do my best to fulfill it together. Today was for us — all three of us.
Hikigaya nodded and spoke, "Okay, let's go."
Hikigaya took the first steps to enter the aquarium. Yuigahama immediately followed him closely behind. Chasing after their backs, I put one foot in front of the other.
The aquarium's atrium was bounded by sunlight. The giant windows around let the sun's rays freely enter. The crowd of people was at an acceptable density, comprised of people whose ages were well into adulthood or on the border of it. As such, the level of noise was on the level of a family restaurant, not excessive like at an amusement park.
Yuigahama pulled us along to the escalators. We stepped on and started a descent. Darkness hit us as we went further and further from the atrium, to the point where it felt dangerous to shift your body around. Yet that feeling of being on edge caused a deeper feeling of anticipation. It was the suspension bridge effect at work.
The air changed. The smell did, to be more precise. A stale, slightly rancid odour hung in the air. It was not of something that was vomit-inducing. Rather, it brought to mind the visceral image of an abyssal floor and its infinite waters, teeming with fauna swimming in teams or bubbling away from a large predator. To put it less pretentiously, it smelled fishy.
When we stepped off the elevator, the room that we were in was no less dark. Yet, the subtle illumination by patches of light placed here and there created an inviting ambience and a secretive sort of mood, inviting participants to walk into a world of unknown.
"Sharks!" yelled Yuigahama.
But was it some sort of evasion on my part to focus on the minor aspects of the room? Right in front of us was a massive tank, aquatic in colour. Dominating over us was a blacktip reef shark. Its impressive size and fearsome face kept my legs still. In contrast, Yuigahama bounced towards the tank, staring at the sharks with great awe. Then, she promptly withdrew her phone and began snapping numerous photos.
"Sharks, is it?" I murmured.
I could swear that its eyes looked my way, as if challenging me. I wasn't exactly afraid, given the glass that separated me and the shark. Even so, I wasn't one to willingly partake in appraising an apex predator of the sea.
"Yukinon, sorry for not telling you about this," said Yuigahama as she turned towards me, "Come on, let's get our spirits up!"
I spoke with trouble, "Easy for you to say…"
She gave me an encouraging smile. But even with that, I was unsure of how to enjoy myself here.
Yuigahama wordlessly pointed past me, prompting me to turn my head. There, Hikigaya's eyes were glued to the shark tank.
"Whoa! Hammerhead sharks! Eh? What, are you allowed to take pictures in here?"
Yuigahama nodded her head. With approval, Hikigaya enthusiastically unveiled his phone and held it up to the glass. A Hammerhead swam by, and its prominent, peculiar head occupied the majority of Hikigaya's phone display. He made strange, satisfied grunts as he took pictures.
"Look! Even Hikki is enjoying himself," said Yuigahama as she snapped more of her own photos.
I sighed. The two of them were getting carried away, being swept up by some strange current. Giddily expressing their wonder without filter and greedily eating through their phones' flash storage, the two of them lacked their normal restraint. Going to an aquarium was something that we didn't do on a regular basis. Perhaps they were compelled to act unusually as well.
It could be inferred that getting carried away was how to enjoy oneself here. I watched Hikigaya be awfully awestruck as his eyes darted from ocean life to ocean life. Frankly, it was a little bit disgusting. Was his age five?
Noticing my gaze, Hikigaya stole a glance at me.
"W-What?" he muttered.
"It's nothing. I was just a little surprised, that's all," I said while smirking.
It would be disgraceful for me to ruin the mood. I should at least try to go along with it all.
I had an excellent idea. I swept aside my long hair so that it wouldn't get in the way. I held out my hand in front of Hikigaya, palm up.
"I could take a photo of you with the sharks," I suggested.
"Seriously?" said Hikigaya in amazement, "Then I can show this off to Komachi!"
He eagerly handed me his phone. He took a few steps toward the tank while I took a few steps backwards. Swapping to camera mode, I held up the phone. The light was rather insufficient, and, through the phone, I could barely see Hikigaya's dead-fish eyes in this den of darkness. I enabled the camera flash function.
"When the hammerhead shark comes, press the camera shutter!" yelled Hikigaya, "It would be great if you could do it when the shark is seen from the side, so that the hammer portion is visible."
"It's surprising how you are being so specific…" I said in exasperation.
Though he was being annoying, it was not an impossible request by any means. I waited until a hammerhead shark approached Hikigaya from the side. Then, I took several shots in succession. On the last photo, its mouth happened to be open, making it look as if Hikigaya's head was about to be swallowed up by the shark.
I passed the phone back to Hikigaya. He excitedly evaluated every photo.
"Oh-ho! These are great!"
"I see. That's great to hear."
I had managed to do my job properly, and that was relieving. However, seeing Hikigaya regress his mental age made my temple throb.
I turned to the glass tank to give it a closer look. Aside from sharks, there appeared to be other forms of aquatic life in there. Sea breams and sardines swam in teams. A manta ray fanned itself out, slowly flapping its fins like a bird as it gracefully swam.
Yuigahama's reflection in the glass caught my eye. She was grinning while facing Hikigaya and me. Yet, it seemed slightly forced, like she was trying to ignore something inconvenient.
Before I could mull it over further or say something, Yuigahama suddenly flew to my side and tightly wrapped herself around my arm.
"Okay then, let's go to the next one!"
Her smile, this time, seemed brighter. Blindingly brighter. At this moment, she wanted to do nothing else but shine brightly.
"…Okay," I muttered.
I returned a smile of my own, respecting Yuigahama's wishes. I let myself be dragged along by Yuigahama, like always. I let myself have fun, giving in to Yuigahama's whims.
Hikigaya trailed along wordlessly, making repeated backward glances at the sharks. He kept at a close but safe distance.
Impressive, colourful displays of swimming fish, sedentary corals, massive predators, food-filtering oysters, and much more surrounded us as we advanced, step-by-step. Where there were aquatic tanks, there was water and life. Where there was a wall or floor, shimmering reflections mischievously bounced around. We could walk on the floor and feel gravity, yet there was an immersive sense of swimming alongside the fish.
Yuigahama, who had absentmindedly gained a foot of distance in front of me, was staring wide-eyed at the world around us, investigating every shadow passing by that caught her eye. She was quite enamoured.
Suddenly, Yuigahama stopped walking. Something appeared to have caught her especial attention. She meandered to a fish tank that was somewhat off the beaten path. Hikigaya and I followed her.
The tank that we encountered had reduced lighting compared to the others. It was not exactly in a secluded corner, but the shroud of darkness that seemed to envelop it would hide it from perception. In this solitary tank was a solitary fish. It lazily swam about, making few movements. Were it not making any movement at all, we would have wondered if it was dead.
"Ugh, so gross," murmured Yuigahama.
"It's a nurseryfish, apparently," nonchalantly spoke Hikigaya.
Naturally, my vision fell upon the plaque in front of the display, filled with information for the intrigued. Kurtus gulliveri was its Latin name. It typically inhabited turbid waters that don't have much movement. It was carnivorous, feeding on things smaller than itself, such as shrimps or small fish. Yet, it doesn't chase after them. Not swimming around much, it simply devours what is in front of itself.
It was a rather low-energy, uninvolved lifestyle. It had quite the dull feeling as well. It was essentially Hikigaya Hachiman the fish. I glanced over at that dead-looking man in question. He correctly guessed what I was thinking and flashed to me a look of exasperation.
He, too, turned his attention to the plaque. His look of exasperation turned to one of amazement.
"They seem to be living the ideal life…" he muttered.
Yuigahama yelled, "You're empathizing with them!?"
Playing dumb, I spoke, "Now that you mention it, this fish, it does resemble someone. Right, Hikifishy-kun?"
He vehemently denied, "We are totally not alike. Neither are our names."
"Ugh, gross," said Yuigahama with a smirk.
"Don't say that they're gross," said Hikigaya, "They are trying their best to live."
He sounded like he was personally hurt. His empathy was fully exposed.
"Gross, isn't it?" repeated Yuigahama.
I agreed with her, "Disgusting, right?"
She heartily giggled. In contrast with our words, she gazed fondly at that slow-moving, unexciting nurseryfish. But I was no different. The two of us squatted down to give the nurseryfish a closer look.
Even though the nurseryfish didn't have the lifestyle to write an action film about, it was still a living organism, a product of nature, and it still had a story behind each of its actions, even if few people could find that fish to be intriguing.
Yuigahama and I were humans, not fish. Empathizing, to understand that fish, was not something we could easily do. That was why, right now, we were only sympathizing, to observe that fish and to share about its appearance, its lifestyle.
"It's gross. But they are kind've cute, aren't they?" spoke Yuigahama.
"I don't know if you could label them as cute," I replied, "But they certainly are endearing."
I turned to Yuigahama. I watched her. She looked warm, like she had just embraced something comfortable. She must have found my own appearance interesting as well, whatever it may have looked like. Because that, the two of us chuckled.
"I'm pretty sure 'cute' is out of the question after calling them gross."
The masculine voice behind us seemed to be speaking out of personal experience, a common occurrence.
I turned around to observe that speaker in his own habitat. He was scowling at that nurseryfish. He probably found its face to be genuinely disgusting. That was why he, alone, was capable of empathy, even if it was misguided.
We continued waltzing our way past the displays of sea life, making frequent stops in front of any creature that took our breath away. At one point, Hikigaya had miraculously gained enough energy to take his hands out of his pockets and lead the way to a tank he was particularly interested in.
While the darkness served to simulate the experience of being at the bottom of an ocean, I began to crave for more light after a while. As if on cue, there was a glass double-door at the end of the path leading to outdoor exhibits. Was that simply a coincidence? Well, psychoanalysis has been and continues to grow in prominence in doing business. To deal with people, one must know people.
We headed out those doors. The sun's rays welcomed us back, its faint bit of warmth tickling us in an afternoon of coldness. Snow still descended in flakes, but its intensity was lessened for now, serving not to smother the ground but to decorate the air.
"Ah, it seems that there is a crowd gathered there," said Yuigahama.
My attention was drawn back to the aquarium's exhibits. The salinity of the air's breath was sourced from more than the nearby sea. There was plenty more aquatic life to be seen, ones that fared better outdoors than indoors. Yuigahama pointed at a large gathering of people, shouting in amazement.
Yuigahama grabbed my hand and said, "Let's go and have a look."
By now, I had found my own way to enjoy all of this. Everyone had to. My way was appreciation of information. I liked reading, so it was only natural that I would derive enjoyment out of reading any plaques, gazing at the life, and imagining how they fared in the wild.
Yuigahama guided me along to the area that had attracted a crowd, with Hikigaya following from behind. There was an unusual fish tank. It was long and rather shallow. However, its most striking aspect was its coverless top. Several patrons were helping themselves by shoving their hands right into the water, touching the fish. I was startled by this behaviour until I read some guidelines on the wall. "Touch them gently with two fingers" was written.
I looked down into the tank. The numerous creatures swimming around were most definitely sharks and stingrays, though their sizes were small. It seemed like we had been seeing an excessive number of sharks today.
"Hey, Hikki, it's inuzame!"
Walking over to the tank, I took a closer look. Yuigahama, with her hand submerged, was busy petting a fish. More specifically it was of the C. punctatum variety, inuzame being the common name. It was almost solid brown in colour, save for the faint bands. It barely reacted to Yuigahama's touch, opting to not to even wiggle its fins.
"It kind've feels like Sablé!" said Yuigahama.
I don't know how she made the connection from fish skin to dog fur. Though, it was an unfortunate comparison. Both this fish and her dog were similar in that they barely acknowledged the existence of Yuigahama Yui.
Next to the inuzame, there was , or nekozame. Nekozame. Neko. Its name was most definitely catshark.
The nekozame was had a more striking appearance, being striped with dark brown and light brown colours. Several of them lazily swam around in that shallow tank at speeds that even a child could catch.
Yet, despite their name, they had no whiskers, no legs, and did not curiously sniff around. Their tails weren't nice and fluffy either. How on earth did the one who named them decide upon "catshark"?
"Naming them as such, surely there must be a part of them that resembles cats," I muttered.
Although, I wasn't seeing it at all. I wanted to find out exactly what made them cat-like.
I rolled up my sleeves. I sent my hand into the water and poked the catshark with a finger. Just like with Yuigahama, it hardly reacted. I began rubbing the top of its body with my hand. Its body was as cold as the water around it. Its skin was rough, a little bit like sandpaper. This sensation, it could only be compared to that of a cat's tongue.
I was beginning to feel an affinity towards this little fish. I wondered what else was cat-like. What sounds would a catshark make? It should be cat-like, since its name was catshark, so it should make cat sounds. A cat would go meow. Oh, that sounded so good when it left my lips. But I wonder, since it was a shark and not precisely a cat, maybe it would go shaaaa instead? Shaaa, shaaa.
"Hyaa!?"
Yuigahama let out a yelp as she hurriedly withdrew her hand.
"I just touched something slimy!" complained Yuigahama, "So slimy!"
I made my way to Yuigahama's side and made a careful inspection of her hand.
"What did you touch? Hikigaya-kun? You'd better wash your hands quickly," I spoke with concern.
I glanced over at that slimy man. He looked rather ticked off but couldn't find any words to defend himself. It was most definitely my victory. As if giving up, he, too, rolled up his sleeves and began touching the sharks in the tank.
I went back to my original spot and resumed petting the cats. Wait, they were catsharks. Cats, catsharks, which was better? Cats, I suppose.
"What? Are you sure you don't want to stroke them more?" spoke Hikigaya.
My hands were definitely still in motion. Thus, his voice was not directed at me. In the corner of my eye, I saw that Yuigahama had none of her hands in the water, her sleeves already rolled back down.
"Yep! I think they would be tired out if I touched them too much," she said apologetically.
"I see," said Hikigaya with a nod, "That's so like you, Yuigahama."
Hikigaya spoke the truth. She was always caring, always considerate. She was always the first one to go out of her way to smooth things out between us. Today's trip was no exception. I had been confused at first, but surely, she must have wanted me to relax in spite of my current circumstances.
"…'Just like me'," muttered Yuigahama, "I wonder about that?"
But Yuigahama didn't sound like she agreed. No, it was worse. She stared at the floor, looking like she was regretting something.
Her reaction was far from the norm. But that was only my impression. "Just like you", I have spoken the same words to Yuigahama a few times recently. At every instance, I had not thought to think about it too deeply, because Yuigahama's smile would always be there the next time I blinked.
Yuigahama raised her head, gazing towards Hikigaya.
"I'm not as nice as you think I am, Hikki."
Her smile was fragile, looking as if it could shatter at any moment. It treaded that precious line, where it could transform into something much greater in either direction.
Hikigaya became startled. Whatever he had wanted to say, in the end, he kept it to himself.
How Yuigahama had always kept smiling, how it was easy to overlook that surface-level comfort, it was something that I was not altogether unfamiliar with. There was that other man, after all. Hayama Hayato. No one ever blamed each other, because no one wanted to shatter that illusion.
The faint glimpses of Hayama Hayato that I had seen — and perhaps Hikigaya had comprehended — could be something like that of a wanderer or a tourist. Stay at one place for a while and enjoy it, but change the topic with that smile and leave once the week was up. To those who tried to stand next to him, it would be unbelievably heartless.
Yuigahama Yui was the opposite. There was no way she would be content with that. Her smile was like a glue for the three of us who sometimes seemed as close as partners, sometimes fell away like strangers. It must have been fatiguing. Fatigue would lead to discontent. How much would that discontent be for us who would trouble her to no end?
There was a possibility. There were things that Yuigahama wanted so very much. And, she was driven. When, I pondered, would that fleeting smile finally be broken?
My hands were submerged in the frigid waters of the tank with nothing under them. The catshark that I was petting, as slow-moving as it was, had already swam away.
Yuigahama didn't linger. Before I knew what was happening, I was already being dragged by the arm to another exhibit.
"Kyuuui!"
Penguins populated the rocky exhibit. They were as spirited as the crowd of onlookers around them. They flapped their fins and wiggled their tails. They bumped into each other or took dives into the pool. The landbound penguins acted somewhat awkwardly, giving them a sort of humorous charm.
"Waa, so cute!" exclaimed Yuigahama.
I nodded and spoke, "I agree."
This was bad. They really were too cute. I couldn't help taking my phone out and snapping multitudes of pictures.
"No way, they are so freaking cute! I must send some pictures to Komachi!"
Hikigaya, too, was quite taken. As his phone played the shutter sound repeatedly, I imagined Komachi drooling over the photos of the penguins. The two siblings would probably look like quite the freaks, making weird shrill noises as they poured over each picture. Not that I was speaking from experience or anything.
We migrated down the stairs to another area of the exhibit. Here, a cross-section of the pool was visible, allowing us to see the penguins swimming. They darted around with surprising grace, the complete opposite of how they were on land. They were like rockets in every sense of the word: quick yet controlled.
"Wow, amazing! Look at them swim!" said Yuigahama in awe, "Doesn't this make you think that they're birds or something?"
I looked at her incredulously and spoke, "Uh, in the first place, penguins ARE birds."
As always, this girl lacked the textbook knowledge that any given 10-year-old would possess. My brain started to ache. Wordlessly flapping her beaks like a penguin trying to swallow an overly large fish, Yuigahama turned to Hikigaya for some help, but he, too, did not look impressed.
"I-I knew that!" yelled Yuigahama in frustration.
I did my best to put on a smile to calm her down, though Yuigahama still looked a little depressed. At least she was becoming aware that she needed a little more knowledge of, well, everything.
We decided to head back up for a final look at the penguins. As we approached the masses of rocks and their funny birds, something caught Hikigaya's eye. He gave that something an unusually fond smile. Yuigahama and I became curious and went over to take a look. He moved aside to give us room.
Two particular penguins exhibit a different behaviour from the rest. I didn't know whether penguins also had a sense of personal space, but they were well within each other's if it did exist. They snuggled up to each other and made loud calls. Their beaks were embedded into the other's fur, repeatedly opening and closing like they were eating something. This was, no doubt, the act of grooming. Looking at them do this to each other had a somewhat sensual feeling to it.
I sought for some more information. Hikigaya, having moved aside, was standing in front of the plaque. "Humboldt penguin" was written across the top. There was a section of the plaque dedicated to penguin mates.
Have you noticed the penguins cuddling? Those two are actually mates. Once two Humboldt penguins mate, they tend to stay with the same partner until one of them dies. They show their affection by grooming their partner's body and calling out to them. We hope you enjoy observing the couple's behaviour.
An Arctic chill ran through my body.
Once two Humboldt penguins mate, they tend to stay with the same partner until one of them dies.
There was no polygamy; Humboldt penguins were monogamous. There was no room in their hearts for other penguins once they have found their match. They would be excluded. It was like a fairy-tale ending. Only death would do them part.
I was having trouble breathing. I gasped for breaths. I could feel my heart quicken, my back filling with sweat.
I had a stark realization. I had begun to have an inkling of why Yuigahama was trying so hard. I had believed that it was to remain close and perhaps move from there. Yet, what if it was the other way around, to act as a preventative measure?
I had gotten comfortable and wanted everything to remain as they were. That sentiment must also have been shared by him and her. For, if Pandora's box was opened, there would be no return.
Yuigahama had her fears, even if what she was fearing would never come true.
What about me? I struggled to contain my breathing. I was on the verge of panicking. My body reacted before I could fill my head with excuses. The cookies still hidden inside my bag were made on a night when I was burdened by mind-numbingly intense thoughts.
If it were nothing else, I would feel only pity. But it was something else. What that could be was fear. It was not new; I had felt dosages of it recently. Yet, I had realized it. It was the exact same fear as Yuigahama's, a taboo that could never be actualized.
It was difficult to remain where I was, with the sight of the penguins being so intimate towards each other. I turned around and began heading towards the aquarium's interior, almost at a jog.
"What's wrong?"
While I was at a small distance away, Hikigaya had noticed and called out to me. At my sudden behaviour, his concern was transparent through his widened eyes.
"…I'll wait inside," I replied.
Leaving behind the penguins, I meandered off alone, back into the aquarium's darkness.
A forest of kelp and coral filled the tank, congesting the waters, and attracting attention. Standing in front of it, I was drawn to the colours of the underwater world. The aquatic forest commanded such a great presence that I had thought that the tank was devoid of fish. Yet, upon careful inspection of each crevice between seaweed and anemones, I could spot tiny fish hiding in the shadows. In the less obstructed spaces free from the overwhelming flora (and the large sessile fauna), the freer fish swam with abandon, willing their tails and fins to flap at their own discretion.
The dark space around me was deserted and silent. The only light came from the fish tank in front of me, illuminated to emphasize the corals. I was staring, my head feeling vague and my thoughts being light.
Footsteps echoed from behind. I turned to look. He was there. Hikigaya Hachiman looked in my direction, as if asking for permission. I nodded slightly. I turned my head back to the fish tank. The sound of the footsteps grew and grew until they came to a stop to my left.
I asked without looking at him, "Where's Yuigahama?"
"Taking pictures of the fairy penguins. She said she would be coming right over soon, so I should just wait here."
"I see," I muttered.
We uttered no more words. I stood there, too ashamed to feel awkward.
I had expected — or hoped — that Hikigaya would follow me. Somehow that expectation felt natural. The things that he had achieved were far from natural, even special. Somewhere along the line, I had begun expecting something special.
Behind the scenes, on the rooftop, the designated overseer of the cultural festival had been forced to make her final speech, on the verge of tears.
During the student council elections, the will of that sly girl was upended, and she willingly robbed us of our own wrongful conclusion.
On that rollercoaster, I made a wish to him. Its evidence, several pictures worth, were tucked away with the rest of my valuables.
But for me to wish for him to continue producing miracles, that was absurdly selfish. I was no different from a wailing child, demanding to be given new toys since I did not have the power to procure them myself.
In the fish tank, a bright red fish caught my eye. It did not bother hiding between kelp; it was far too large. It swam slowly, without a care.
"They seem to be really free," I murmured.
"Yeah. That fish is quite big, huh," commented Hikigaya.
Freedom was coveted by anyone, something that some people considered a fundamental need. Freedom from hunger, freedom from oppression, freedom from bills, freedom from exams, the state of liberation was sought after by everyone. Yet, if there was nothing restraining you, nothing around you at all, you would reach out — and grasp nothing.
I spoke. Hikigaya silently listened.
"If it can't find a place to go, it won't find a place that it belongs to."
That fish was so full of leisure, so free, yet it had no crevice to call its own.
"It will hide, ride with the current or follow whatever it can—"
The waters were still, so it, too, remained relatively still. Yet, if the waters became turbulent, how would that fish react? Perhaps it would not expend anymore energy, letting itself be tossed around.
"—Until it crashes into the walls it can't see."
That fish, with its limited knowledge, would never be able to comprehend the existence of glass. Even if it could, there was no way it could predict the boundaries of its environment, bounded by things that were transparent and invisible.
"Which fish are you talking about?" asked Hikigaya.
He turned to me with an academic look of confusion, one that sought to know a factual answer. But I had no idea which species that fish was, let alone its behaviours.
"Myself," I responded.
My sister had toyed with me endlessly, and my mother had burdened me with her expectations. I had sought freedom from a house that did not have the comfort of a normal dwelling. I liberated myself, moving to an apartment on my own, but that freedom itself did not provide me with satisfaction.
By sheer fortune, I had stumbled upon the Service Club. There were others there, who were shameless enough to cause trouble for me and to drag me to unexpected places. I found it comfortable. I treasured it, as I had no other place where I belonged.
The driver of our successes was him. I began looking at him to ensure our successes. My desire for it grew. That was the error.
A wall to my growth. A wall that I enclosed myself in. Overcoming my sister and placating my mother were things that I desired, but for the current me, they were nothing more than pipe dreams. I had been satisfied with where I found myself, but I realized that it was nothing more than complacency. Stagnation rotted me.
"Sorry to have kept the two of you waiting!"
Standing at a distance away from us, Yuigahama gave us big waves, throwing all of her energy into her arms. Rather than sitting in that club room, sipping tea, it was Yuigahama Yui who dragged us to this aquarium.
The aquarium's overall floor plan was that of a loop, with numerous stubs as diversions. We were heading towards the final area we had yet to explore before closing that loop.
Most of the aquarium's interior had been quite dark. In contrast, the area we stepped onto was much brighter. Lights were more abundant, and the walls and floor had more vibrant colours. Rather than the feeling of walking on the abyssal sea floor, this final area felt like an ascension, swimming upwards towards the sun, the waters becoming brighter and brighter.
While I spent a few seconds looking around, Yuigahama had already found an exhibit she was interested in. She beckoned for us to come over.
The tank she was in front of was rather small. It was essentially a circle window in the wall that was about the surface area of three or four human faces. I had to approach quite closely to observe. Due to the lack of space (or so I believed), Yuigahama stuck closely to my body, latching on to my arm, as we both observed the tank. Hikigaya stood behind us.
Jellyfish undulated. Their bells open and closed not to the extent of an umbrella but like bubbles that seemed to expand and contract. Their numerous slim and lengthy tentacles trailed behind their bells.
"Wow, this kind've looks like fireworks!" cried Yuigahama.
I tilted my head in confusion. We were seeing the contraction and expansion of the jellyfish. I could hardly think of fireworks doing the same thing. Perhaps the expansion could be likened to the colours spreading out, but I couldn't think of what could be contracted.
Yuigahama pointed at the jellyfish as she turned around to speak to Hikigaya.
"Oh?" he responded, though looking confused.
"Don't you see it? There, at that place. Pewww, bannngg," said Yuigahama, especially emphasizing her latter strange noises.
"Oh, I get it now," said Hikigaya with a nod, "Maybe if the round ones spread its body out, it would resemble something like that."
He had come to basically the same conclusion as me, giving the jelly fish a fond look. The two of them spoke with a sort of familiarity. Yet, this "place" that Yuigahama was talking about was absent from my memories.
However, Yuigahama shook her head.
"That's not it. Here…"
She touched the glass window with her finger, pointing not at a jellyfish's bell but its tentacles. The movement of its bell sent waves rippling down the length of its tentacles, trailing behind like ghosts. The mysterious nature of the tentacles added a touch of unexpectedness to the otherwise regular contractions of the jellyfish.
While the sight was beautiful, I still could not find any connection to fireworks. On the other hand, both Hikigaya and Yuigahama were entranced. In their minds' eyes, there was definitely a scenery that was unknown to me. There was a story that I had only hints of. There was a hidden paradise that I was not privy to, their little secret.
An emptiness spread throughout my chest, a contradictory feeling that felt heavy despite not having substance. There was a feeling of loss, despite never having owned.
Suddenly, Yuigahama crept closer to me. Her entire body emanated a presence that sought to capture me.
"Too close…" I complained.
"Ehehe."
I tried to move to the side. The window to the jellyfish became more difficult to see. However, Yuigahama grabbed my arm, pulling me right back to where I was.
"I'm really glad…" gently spoke Yuigahama.
She peacefully closed her eyes. Her fingers were curled, the tips touching her palms, as she held a hand in front of her bosom.
"…That the three of us could see this together," whispered Yuigahama.
She held precious the fireworks that the two of them saw. She could have continued to keep it private. Yet she extended an invitation to me regardless, as late as it was. Was it a regret out of selfishness? If I had to fall back to what I assumed of Yuigahama, that would not be the case. Knowing her, it may have been a time where it was physically impossible to reach out to me.
There were few such times. What came to mind was summer. I see. It may have been then.
Yes. I wordlessly nodded to Yuigahama. She smiled brightly, like fireworks.
In the reflection of the glass, Hikigaya's eyes drifted back and forth. Perhaps he was looking at Yuigahama and me. One or both. I couldn't tell, not from this angle.
I could not go to the fireworks. It was impossible for me. Even for Yuigahama, it would have to remain as her private island. She deserved at least that much.
Therefore, I set my sights back on the jellyfish. I gazed at the sight that the three of us viewed at present, burning it into my mind.
"GOAL!"
Yuigahama bounced out of the exit. Her arms were stretched towards the heavens like wings. The heavens, themselves, lightly showered her with gentle flakes, making Yuigahama look like an oversized fairy that was, nonetheless, undersized compared to the skies.
Our journey around the aquarium had concluded. The sky above was orange, on the verge of becoming black. The sun wanted to glow one last time on this side of the world before moving on to the other side.
She jumped back towards us, shaking off the snow that had stuck to her hair and coat.
"Hey, let's go for another round!" she exclaimed.
"No way," refused Hikigaya, "There's no point in visiting the same places again."
"Y-Yes, I agree. I am a little tired after all," I said, dragging my legs towards Yuigahama.
If Yuigahama was a fairy full of energy and mana, then I was a spirit that had lost its life. My stamina was nearly depleted. My legs were aching, and my mind was failing. Was my body cursed? I was not out of shape by any means, but my body would refuse to extend its capacity for activity no matter how much I exercised.
"Is that so? I think it would've been fun," said Yuigahama, checking her watch, "It's not time yet anyway."
She turned to us with an uneasy smile. She shifted around restlessly, reluctant to call things to an end.
"Ah!"
Something caught her eye, and she let out a yelp. She pointed into the distance. Far away was a Ferris wheel, slowly turning.
"Let's go there!" she cried.
She bounced towards the Ferris wheel, a new spring in her steps. Having nothing better to do, Hikigaya and I followed after her.
As we approached, the height of the Ferris wheel seemed to grow taller and taller. Just how far away were we before? I had thought it was small, but it felt twice as intimidating from up close. The blood drained from my face.
"Hey, Yukinoshita," spoke Hikigaya.
I turned to face him. He looked nonchalant at first. However, when he saw my face, his eyes widened slightly.
"Um, we don't have to do this if you really don't want to…" he muttered.
"That's not a problem," I responded while feeling a little offended, "In fact, I want to do this."
Yuigahama chuckled. She fell back to my side and held onto my arm. I appreciated it for once. The inescapable sight of the towering, circular Goliath ahead was making me shiver.
I hesitated when it came time to enter the Ferris wheel carriage. However, Yuigahama's enthusiasm managed to persuade me to board the Ferris Wheel. The persuasion was more physical than mental; my back was gently pushed into that tiny compartment. Because of her forcefulness, I wasn't paying attention for a moment. Before I knew it, I was seated it. The conductor shut the gate with a loud clang, startling me. Shut in this small compartment, I began to feel dread.
A faint hum began to sound out from the Ferris wheel. The carriage began its slow ascent towards the heavens. We were being lifted higher and higher from the ground. The carriage rocked, making my stomach churn. We were heading towards the great beyond, as if our souls were being sent upwards, out of our bodies. Yes, I felt like I was going to die.
"Waaa, so high! Scary!" bellowed Yuigahama, "I mean, this shaking so madly!"
Yuigahama had stood up and clung to the sides of the carriage, peering out the window. Her reckless actions caused the carriage to rock even more. I desperately clung to my seat and tried hard not to look outside.
"Weren't you listening just now? I told you we didn't have to do this if you didn't want to," said Hikigaya.
His concern for me was, again, apparent. He was, of course, the unusually observant type, but he had known me long enough to voice his concern for me time and time again. After saying those things to him back in Destinyland, I suppose he was keeping his promise, in his own way. Though, I was also aware that I could barely feel any blood left in my face, so it may have been obvious from that.
I met his eyes and shook my head. More than my fears, there was something important.
"It's nothing… Everyone, together…"
I trailed off. Nothing more needed to be said. That was fine as well, because it was embarrassing. I averted my eyes, feeling a kinder heat fill my face. Of course, where my eyes went was the outside, and outside was a hundred-meter drop. My face immediately went cold and pale again.
To add insult to injury, the carriage continued to shake. It truly felt like I was going to be hurtled away from this spot and be sent into a free-fall.
I grasped hold of the source of the erratic movements — Yuigahama. I forced her to sit back down.
"Yuigahama-san. You can't do that while you're in the Ferris wheel," I admonished, "Did you not read the guidelines?"
"Yukinon, you look scary!" said Yuigahama, taken aback, "S-Sorry, I was just having so much fun."
I sighed and spoke, "It's not that I am particularly bothered by you having fun, it's just that certain standards have to be upheld."
Yuigahama could sometimes ignore such standards for the sake of having fun, therefore I continued to hold onto her, to keep her in check. Yuigahama's response was to pull herself closer to me, until we were practically hugging. Yuigahama's skinship was all too familiar to me, and she had always tried to invade my personal space. It would be very out of place for her to not do that.
"Look that way! Yukinon's house is probably that way," said Yuigahama as she pointed to the left, "Ah, if only we could go closer in that direction, we could probably see it."
Yuigahama was as excited about this ride as she was about the aquarium. It would be wrong of me to continue staring at my feet and blinding myself from the sights.
Gathering up what little courage I had, I peeked out the window, from an angle that would obscure most of the ground. The tops of the buildings were blanketed in snow. Tall pines interleaved snow and green needle. The waters of Tokyo Bay shimmered with orange under the sunset sky. Dancing snowflakes drifted downwards, in uniform velocity. It felt like we were inside an inverted snow globe, staring at the snow-laden world from the inside to the outside, through a frosted glass.
"It's magnificent," I spoke in admiration, "Even if we can't see my house, I think there's more than enough to see from here."
"It's so beautiful…" gasped Yuigahama in awe.
Hikigaya agreed with her, "Ah, as expected of my Chiba."
"Since when did they become yours?" I said in amazement.
"For the time being. But this place here, it's in Tokyo isn't it?" said Hikigaya.
I held my forehead and said in exasperation, "Edogawa is one of the 23 wards of Tokyo, you know? Anyway, this place is closer to Kasai. I highly doubt you can see Chiba from here."
Hikigaya's love for Chiba was as remarkable as ever. It was great enough to even warp his perception of three-dimensional space.
Yuigahama laughed along. Undoubtedly, she was amused at the fact that Hikigaya was ever his brutish self.
The carriage began to descend. Accompanying the slow fall, the sight of the outside became gradually less scary but also less breathtaking. Time ticked, and the landing drew nearer. Now, we were together, but soon, we would have to separate.
Always the same, always together, such was the illusion that the three of us shared. But illusions were things that had a definite expiry. They were designed to shatter. To ponder its fragility was enough to frighten anyone, even my sister Haruno. A fish could be content with being tossed around by the waters, so long as it was deluding itself into thinking that it was fine.
A momentary peace was coming to an end. I had realized that things could never stay the same, no matter how much I desired it, because my underlying self had changed. It had warped into something so unrecognizable, so utterly bizarre, that I could barely grasp hold of it. The feelings I held toward the two of them had become strong, but I failed to find a proper way to provide an outlet for these feelings. Even worse, I could do little else but accept whatever fell in front of me. Without knowing and without doing, it was no wonder that I could not grow.
To remain fixated on an illusory, empty yesterday, when today was different in so many ways, I could not consider that genuine — even if I yearned for that warm yesterday.
"It's almost over," murmured Yuigahama.
Yuigahama's eyes remain fixed on the window, despite the view having been taken up by the surrounding trees. But there was no emptiness in those eyes. The fairy tale was nearing its end, and Yuigahama seemed determined to turn the page.
