Chapter Text
Chisaki found, under the careful instructions of Grandpa Isamu, the sea hidden in one of the trunks: a turquoise sea to compliment her eyes, with creases like ripples in the water, netted with a quarry of corals and a banner of fishes. The first time she unfolded it and hugged its length close to her body in front of the mirror, she could not picture how it would look on her. The length fell a handspan below her knees, so she needed to adjust the hem to make it longer. Today, Chisaki wore the sea, fitting her arms into the sleeves, breathless, not because the obi was wrapped too snugly around her waist, but because all kinds of feelings were welling up and yet she could not put any into words.
"Chisaki-chan, your eyes are watering."
For the past fifteen minutes, Chisaki had been fighting the urge to blink her eyes. "Sorry, Akari-san. I'm just not used to make-up."
Akari paused to pay Chisaki a smile and a kind look before she resumed tracing the pencil over Chisaki's lashes. "Just a little more and this 'torture' will be over, okay?...There, we're done!"
Akari stepped back from Chisaki and taking her gently by the shoulders, spun her about to face the mirror. Chisaki was speechless, but the other girls gushed over her. Her midnight-blue hair, grown out up to the middle of her back, was twisted into an eloquent bun, held fast by an ornate white pin that contrasted well with her hair and furisode. The furisode draped beautifully, its turquoise shade was the splendid blue of the sea on a cloudless, sun-bright day, so brilliantly captured by whoever designed the cloth. It could mesmerize; it could beckon.
"Wow. Chii-chan, you look like a bride!"
Chisaki's red-tinged cheeks grew even redder.
"Silly Manaka. Today is Chisaki and Tsumugu's Coming of Age," floated off a voice just beyond the screen door.
"Hii-kun! You're not supposed to peek while Chii-chan's dressing up!" Manaka glared at the door, her brows dipping like a valley.
Hikari, his arms crossed casually behind his head, sauntered in without as much as a by-your-leave. "You girls were so noisy we could hear everything next door."
"It looks pretty on you, Chisaki. You look pretty," commented Kaname, appearing at the mouth of the room.
"Peety!" imitated Akira, jutting out his chubby arms at Chisaki and the only thing stopping him from clawing her robe was Miuna keeping a tight lease. "Akira! Don't touch the pretty robe, okay? You don't want to ruin it, do you?" she scolded. After a while, the indomitable toddler at last gave up on breaking away from the prison of his sister's arms and settled down in his "cage" sulkily.
"May we come in?" Kaname entreated, even though Hikari had already invited himself in.
Chisaki nodded. Earlier, there was still room yet to maneuver, even with Akira milling about restlessly, in her constricting furisode with its hanging sleeves, but now there appeared to be less space with the addition of two boys, one quiet, the other rowdy, as rowdy as ten combined. Somewhere along, Akira was somehow liberated of Miuna's guard and it only took three pairs of hands bearing down on him to contain the little bundle of chaos, saving Chisaki's robe from ruin.
Meanwhile, Manaka bounded towards Chisaki and snatched up her hands, Manaka's smaller ones encircling her bigger hands. Manaka stared up at her, eyes bright with innocence. "Chii-chan, you're going to be a grown-up now?"
Chisaki could feel the advent of tears pooling in her eyes. "Yes," she breathed out, the rest of her words choked up in her throat.
"But Chii-chan will still be Chii-chan, right?" Manaka continued, smiling as if nothing else mattered.
Chisaki could only nod at first, but it was not enough and so, taking all effort to get her voice to work again, she managed another "Yes."
"Chisaki, are you ready?"
Chisaki's eyes flickered to the door, to the tall figure standing there, and the rest of the room followed, but while they could sing pretty praises for Chisaki, they could not do the same for Tsumugu, because they could only stare in silent awe.
Let it be said that they had never ever seen Tsumugu wearing a suit. They eyed him from top to bottom: from his black jacket over a blue dress shirt and plain-white tie, down to his black trousers and polished black leather shoes. The most striking in his appearance today, anybody would agree, was his ashen hair brushed back. A few locks of hair strayed on his forehead, but he was, without a doubt, a different-looking Tsumugu.
Hikari's mouth hung open, as if he was going to say "Wow" but the word would not flow out and Manaka beat him to it. "Wow, Tsumugu-kun looks very handsome!"
"You look very proper, Tsumugu," Kaname added, nodding sagely.
"Swoon-worthy!" Sayu exclaimed, her thoughts drifting to a different image, of a certain sandy-haired boy wearing a similar ensemble, and she expelled an airy sigh that did not escape Kaname's attention and made him hoard a secret chuckle.
"You can really see the difference now, huh?" Hikari murmured to himself and then, recovering from his stupor, he broke into a grin. "Tsumugu, looking good there!"
"Thank you," returned Tsumugu, a ghost of a smile on his lips. He shifted his gaze. "Chisaki?"
Neglected for a few seconds, now all eyes reeled back to her, for which she was unprepared for, but before she could process what to say, she was already being nudged from behind–by Hikari or was it Manaka?–her zori going clack-clack-clack on the wooden floor as they jostled her forward. She made a wrong step, losing her balance, and tilted over in her wooden sandals...
"...Oof," grunted Tsumugu, who had moved, quicksilver-fast, to catch Chisaki in his arms.
Chisaki slowly raised her head, instantly arrested by his deep purple gaze, and was reminded of another seascape, that of the night sea. A calm sea. A calm gaze.
"Are you alright?"
Chisaki startled. "I-I'm fine," she stuttered and so did her heart. Abruptly, in panic, she let out a hiccup of a gasp and released her fingers clutching his sleeves. "I'm sorry! I'm wrinkling your coat!" Chisaki stumbled back, wooden sandals clacking against wooden floor, sleeves swinging at her sudden movement.
"I don't mind," Tsumugu admitted, straightening up.
A throaty sound came from behind and the two twisted around to find Grandpa Isamu standing there in the hallway.
"It's time for you two to go."
Isamu contemplated Chisaki's appearance, the plains of his face immutable. Chisaki tried her best not to fidget under his heavy scrutiny. After a while, he nodded, a subtle flick of the head. "Ayane will like it."
Chisaki blinked, her brows creasing at the name's mention. She turned to Tsumugu, posing a silent question in her eyes.
"It belonged to her," Tsumugu explained.
But still, this did not erase the crease on her brows. Chisaki chose not to dwell on the answer or–more aptly–lack of and turned towards the interior of the room to tumble out her thank you's and farewell's. Then, they made their way down the stairs and out of the house. They had already left the hilltop, the descent down the slope slow, when Tsumugu revealed, "Ayane is my grandmother's name."
"I see." Chisaki assumed as much, that such a precious and carefully kept article of clothing must have belonged to an important family member.
"She did not alter it, hoping she could preserve it for a daughter."
Chisaki, for some reason, felt her heart squeeze. "Did you...?" she started to ask, but broke off.
"No. Sadly, Grandma Ayane died before I was even born," Tsumugu replied quietly.
Chisaki trained her eyes downwards, her voice small and contained as she said, "I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's okay. I didn't know her enough to mourn her loss, but it's different for grandpa. His wife hasn't been by his side for more than half his life. His son left Oshiooshi as soon as he graduated from high school. Since then, grandpa's lived alone."
There was something, in the sandpaper-rough candor of his voice, in the way he worded his grandfather's story, as if Tsumugu was an outsider detached, no, it was something else.
"You felt his loneliness," Chisaki intuited. "That's why you chose to live with your grandfather."
Tsumugu lifted his chin and angled his head towards Chisaki, who also did the same.
"He's lucky to have you," she finished.
The corner of Tsumugu's lips hinted a semblance of a smile and he stared into Chisaki's light eyes. "The same goes for you."
"Huh?" Chisaki stared back in confusion.
"We're lucky to have you too."
Chisaki let out an "Oh" halfway between genuinely surprised and pleasantly surprised and then, bowed her head to hide her embarrasment and the flushed heat that bloomed on her cheeks.
"Chisaki, Tsumugu!" They heard a voice cry as they reached the bottom of the slope. They raised their eyes and there, standing on the hilltop in a haphazard row, were Hikari, Manaka, and the others.
"Chii-chaaan! Tsumugu-kuuun!" Manaka, cupping her hands over her mouth, yelled after Hikari, who was brandishing his hand vigorous as a flag fluttering to the tune of the wind.
As one, the group on the hilltop belted out a symphony of, "Happy Coming of Age!"
Shun Sayama sat in a row with his other high school friends–Takeshi Egawa, Kaori Akiyoshi, and Yuu Seiki–engaging in idle chatter while they waited for the ceremony to begin.
"I can't wait to get out of this stifling costume," Shun grumbled under his breath, tugging on his necktie like it was an elastic spring for the last half hour.
Kaori barked out a laugh. "Costume?"
Shun scowled. "What? Do I need to wear a coat and tie while manning the counter at Saya Mart or when I'm delivering goods with the pickup truck?"
"Point taken," Kaori conceded, leaning back in her seat and producing a pocket-sized mirror to inspect her appearance.
"After this, we'll truly be full-fledged members of society," murmured Takeshi in an undertone of awe. Unlike Shun who was restless with his hands, Takeshi rested his fists on his lap and remained that way since he first sat down.
Yuu smiled, all red lips, and bumped shoulders with Kaori. "You still look perfect," she whispered confidentially and then, in a louder voice, "You have it easy, Egawa-kun. You already have a job and a wife." The fact of Takeshi Egawa's early foray into adulthood was well-known in Oshiooshi. Who would not be privy to the news when, literally, everybody shopped at Saya Mart and brought home not just groceries, but gossip as well?
"And a cute daughter to boot," chirped Kaori, snapping the mirror close and replacing it in her pouch.
Shun, leaving his mangled tie to rest, joined in. "He's not obliged to provide for his family because the girl's family is well-to-do."
And Kaori added, "If he does well enough at his job and earns the favor of his father-in-law, he has a shot at taking over the business!'
"You guys talk like I'm not here." Takeshi winced. "You don't know how scary my father-in-law is!" He shuddered at the thought.
"Scarier than Tsumugu's grandpa? You don't say!" Shun managed in between fits of laughter. He was finally starting to be comfortable in his adult suit and nothing could unseat him from his good mood, he was sure.
Yuu roamed her eyes over the sea of heads in the hall. "Which reminds me, where are those two?"
"There they are! Over here, you two!" Shun wave his hand in an arc to draw the attention of a newly arrived pair–one fair-skinned woman donning a beautiful aquamarine furisode, the other a tan-skinned man in a black formal suit.
The hall was not so big, holding no less than a hundred twenty-year old youths at the moment, but Shun's row was third from the front stage, so the two had quite a ways to walk down the aisle and people could not avoid not looking. Together, they appeared eye-catching–a sea shade and an earth shade. Here was another well-known story in Oshiooshi–of how Chisaki Hiradairi came to live with Tsumugu Kihara and his grandfather and of practically growing up together almost like siblings. But 'siblings' was a gossamer-thin label for describing what existed between them because it was more than just sharing a roof or meals, or displays or non-displays of familial or friendly affection. The truth was a pounding heartbeat or a quiet stirring in one's breast–it breathed solely between them.
"Where have you two been?" Shun asked as soon as they settled down on the empty seats to his left. He took in their slightly but not too disheveled appearance and his mouth split into a cheshire grin, his eyes glinting. "Don't tell me you two–?"
Chisaki's cheeks burned and she shook her head. "–No! It's not what you think, Sayama-kun."
"We went to offer respect at the Fish shrine," Tsumugu said without embellishments.
The Fish shrine was what they called the little shrine in a grove of trees on a bluff overlooking the sea. Long had it been since it was left untouched by man until, recently, sea and land folks alike started coming by more and more often. Sometimes, there were sightings of Uroko-sama, yet he never appeared for more than a flicker of the eye. Chance a blink and you would miss him.
Shun was curious. "Did you...see Uroko-sama?"
The path was a steep climb up a dirt trail that slipped in and out of a forest of trees sprinkled white with the saltflake snow. It was a bit insane, taking a hike up a snowy cliff in their fineries, but Chisaki insisted they visit the Fish shrine, even when, halfway there, she gave a squeak, stepping her foot into a deep patch of snow. She could not stop shivering afterwards. But despite that, Chisaki was not the least bit discouraged, so even though it was not enough, Tsumugu could only warn her to be careful.
The ground leveled out abruptly and the trees parted to make way for two pillars–the entrance to the shrine. They paused to catch their breath before they ventured onwards. Passing through the gates was like passing through a portal that somehow teleported them to another place or moment, like stepping into another realm. There was an inexplicable, sacred silence surrounding the sanctuary, highlighted by the absence of any of nature's sounds–the churning waves, the cry of seagulls–that had been part of the background not more than a minute ago.
This place was, unlike the rest of town, a place suspended in time, a place connected to that underwater world.
Tsumugu and Chisaki stepped closer to the altar, their footfalls muted by the snow-cushioned ground. Two licks of blue flame, one on the right, the other on the left, danced fervently at the foot of the altar. On the floor of the shrine was a litter of offerings–winter-dried flowers, a sundry of fruits, incense, a bottle of rice wine and hidden underneath the pile, a glaring red that was too out of place, was an adult magazine. Chisaki quirked a quizzical brow at Tsumugu, who was unfazed.
"It was a favor for Mukaido."
"To please a god or more appropriately one of his body parts?"
"It was offered with Mukaido's sincerest intentions."
This was as far as he would admit; he did not need to mention making not just one but several trips to the convenience store and heading for the magazine racks.
"Oh, Tsumugu," Chisaki intoned helplessly, but said a word no more. Without a sound, she moved forward and bowed her head while touching her palms together. Tsumugu followed her gesture and together, they offered their prayers.
On the shore of his thoughts, Tsumugu wondered if the Sea God could hear their voices. Would He listen to the voice of a halfling?
A gust of chilly wind blew that disturbed the still life scenery, rustling the stiff branches of trees and plucking away frosted leaves, casting them on the bed of snow and some more on the frozen lake.
"You have come to ask for a boon."
Tsumugu and Chisaki turned their heads in the direction of the voice.
"Uroko-sama!" Chisaki cried when they sighted the light-haired figure reposing atop the pillars. He sat up, bracing his palms on the beam. The scales on his limbs and chest flashed a brilliant gradient of sea-blue and silver-white under the wink of the sun.
"I see you are both well-dressed today."
"Today is our Coming of Age," Tsumugu said.
"Ah, yes. Coming of Age–a celebration I have not beheld in recent years. As you know, the sea village still sleeps."
"Except for a few," Tsumugu added, putting emphasis on 'few'.
"Indeed," agreed Uroko. He pushed his legs high up and then, jumped off from his high place, landing lightly on his feet. He circled around Tsumugu and Chisaki, sauntering towards the interior of the shrine, and dropping cross-legged on the floor. He regarded the two of them for a moment. "I suppose it is proper for me to give a blessing to the children of the sea."
Tsumugu must have shown surprise on his face, for Uroko turned his slit pupils on him, his mouth cracking into a wild grin. "You have been granted ena, so you have been recognized as a child of the sea, have you not?"
Tsumugu knew the answer, then.
"Uroko-sama, do you..." Chisaki's voice faded out, at first. "Do you know when my parents, when Shioshishio will wake up?"
Uroko's amethyst gaze slithered towards her. There was an almost serpentine quality to it, Tsumugu thought. Uroko was silent for some time before he opened his mouth again.
"It is a cycle. When the snow melts, spring will bloom. This eternal winter will run its course."
"You mean...?" Chisaki trailed off, a sliver of hope latching onto his promising words.
"I am but a mere scale formed of the Sea God's flesh or as you said, body part."–Uroko spared Chisaki a knowing look, to her chagrin–"I know neither God nor Nature's precise designs. I know only that everything that has been shall come to pass."
There was a popular expression among Oshiooshi residents lately, 'neither tail nor scale', a popular reply to the equally infamous question that Shun was asking them right now.
"Did you see Uroko-sama?"
But Tsumugu and Chisaki did not answer 'neither tail nor scale' as expected. Instead, in reply, they both nodded solemnly and the rest, Shun and the others would never hear of, because the ceremony started soon after.
The master of ceremonies made his opening remarks and introduced the guest speaker–a short-legged, dapper man who looked to be in his late twenties, wearing a black hakama. He climbed, or rather skipped up the stage and began with several ehem's before rushing headlong into his hour-long speech that would likely be less than half-remembered by the audience by the time he ended.
"You! Yes, you!"
Next to Tsumugu, Shun, who was having trouble staying alert, jumped in his seat, startled awake by the booming voice. Shun surveyed his surroundings, disoriented. "Is it over yet!?" he blabbered, drawing the unwanted attention of neighbors.
"...You, who are standing on a precipice of indecisions, have the courage to face the future...!"
"Oh, god," croaked Shun, a flash of grimace on his features. "Apparently, not."
On Tsumugu's other side, Chisaki let out a short giggle at Shun's reaction.
"Well, this certainly makes our ceremony memorable," Kaori remarked in amusement.
"The only memory I'll have of him is yodeling like a theater performer, for crying out loud," grumbled a moody Yuu.
"He's just very...enthusiastic," Chisaki amended kindly, turning towards Tsumugu for his support.
"Role model material?" suggested Tsumugu.
"That's right."
For the remainder of the hour, everybody tried hard to be on their very best behavior. Although, when Mr. Dapper left the stage, there was a not so subtle collective sigh of relief. The mayor, whose fisherman roots were undeniable in his tanned skin and sturdy built despite his age, was called on stage for the closing remarks.
In contrast to Mr. Dapper, the mayor was neither grandiose nor verbose in his words. He walked steady, even steps forward and when he reached the dais, tapped the microphone once, then he simply bade the whole room a plain, "Good morning," and, in earnest, shared an anecdote of his childhood.
The youngest of four boys with an age gap of seventeen years between him and the eldest, he enjoyed his childhood at a leisurely pace, having three older brothers to share responsibilities at home. But tragedy struck and he lost his father and three brothers all at once in a fishing accident that would change his circumstances forever. With his small body, he worked for his father and brothers' share, casting his father's fishing net out on the sea, heaving the net out of the water with his slim arms and short hands, and rubbing the skin of his palms raw on the rope. He cried from the pain, but he never let his mother know until, one day, his mother took him aside and asked him to show her his palms. She looked pitifully at her son and stood up, disappearing into her room. He thought she was upset with him, but she returned with a bottle of ointment. He winced when his mother rubbed the ointment in gentle circles on his wounds. She said, "My dear, sweet boy, you are trying too hard to look through the eyes of an adult. You're still a child. Your body may be small and weak right now, but take each step in stride and you will grow bigger, taller, and stronger as you make your steps."
And this same advise the mayor offered to the youth. He did not talk of responsibilities or duties in society. They were not grown-ups, but 'growing up', because it was, after all, a process that people would keep going through for the rest of their lives. There was no 'end' to growing up.
The mayor got off the stage and Tsumugu realized that he was literally striding across the room, his bearing proud and tall, the bearing of a man who struggled through life from an early age, but still exuded a grace of youth. He inspired awe in the eyes of many that it was little wonder when the mayor earned a standing ovation from the audience.
A little after that, the attendees were at last given a chance to stretch out their legs and leave the hall. The ceremony was over, finally.
"Photo op!" squealed Yuu as soon as they burst out into the sunlight, yanking on Chisaki and Tsumugu's sleeves to drag them where the photographer set up his tripod.
"Could you please take our picture?" she asked the photographer, who waved a hand at a spot in front of the camera.
They pushed closely together for a formal shot, keeping still as the camera went ka-chak! ka-chak! It did not end at that, though, because Yuu kept requesting for one more, which the photographer gladly obliged. On the other hand, the rest who were getting their pictures taken grew tired after Yuu's fifteenth or so one more.
"Wanna see your pictures, Missie?" offered the photographer.
"Yes, please!"
The group crowded behind the photographer while he played back their pictures on his camera. They poked fun at everyone's faces in each shot, especially Shun. Tsumugu stood back some distance away together with Chisaki.
"It was a good speech," mentioned Chisaki all of a sudden.
"Standing on the precipice of indecisions."
Chisaki threw Tsumugu a stern look. "You know what I mean."
Tsumugu smiled. "Yes, it was good."
The next thing Chisaki said was just as sudden. "Is it okay that they're not here on this day?"
The smile on his lips drooped into a frown. He faced away from her. Tsumugu understood perfectly well who 'they' alluded to. " They said they can't come because the city is too far away from here, but I should come visit them when I return to university."
He kept his tone impersonal, but Chisaki knew better, her hand sliding out of her voluminous sleeve and landing light as a bird on his arm. Tsumugu touched that hand with his free one and kept his hand over hers for longer than should have been before he brought their hands down together. He maintained some distance from her while they looked on quietly from the background, yet Tsumugu could not resist sneaking a sideways glance at the woman beside him. She was smiling jubilantly, albeit, a little wistful-looking. Chisaki seemed to be aware of the pair of eyes watching her, because she spoke out.
"I can't deny that this would be a lot better with Hikari, Manaka, Kaname, grandpa, and my parents, but I'm happy to share this moment with them"–She glanced at their rowdy bunch of high school classmates–"and also," Chisaki stopped as if her breath was plugged by a cork before she pushed forward and unpopped it. "with you."
Tsumugu could discern the flush travelling to her cheeks as she shyly tucked her chin into the folds of her kimono. More than anything, he felt joy for this piece of truth.
The door shuddered open, inviting in a cold draft of air and also, Takeshi Egawa, with a girl on his arm.
"Egawa, man, you're late to the party–! Whoa, is that your wife!? Well, haven't you caught a pretty bird? You sit with us over here! No, not you, Egawa! Just your wife!"
Takeshi dispensed his high school classmates a reproachful glare, wrapping his arm protectively around the girl and ushering her straight towards the more peaceful end of the table, where Chisaki sat.
Chisaki glanced up from her plate, taking in the woman with medium length chestnut brown hair, soft hazel eyes, and a honeyed smile. She had seen Takeshi's wife before, when she was introduced to them, but Chisaki did not have the opportunity to talk to her personally until now.
"Hana, love, can you sit with Chisaki? Chisaki, would you keep her company, please? I'm sure you two will get along well."
"Oh, I'm sure we will."
"Thanks, Chisaki! You're an angel." Takeshi smiled gratefully before he went to sit among the merrymakers, who did not lay off the harrassment one bit and even upped the ante. At this point, the celebration had been ongoing for a couple of hours now and the combination of warm food and a seemingly endless supply of alcohol had sufficiently loosened neckties and tongues. The empty bottles of alcohol multiplied as the bawdy jokes multiplied in sheer shamelessness. In the midst of the revelry, Hana and Chisaki were in their corner, having a quiet conversation.
"I swear he's been handling me like a fragile thing ever since he found out about the baby."
"He's just looking out for you." Chisaki's gaze fell on her growing belly. "How many months?"
"Eight," replied Hana. "We're expecting the baby during the first week of next month."
Chisaki's eyes widened. "You're so close to giving birth! And you two still came to Ooshioshi."
"I was the one who insisted on making the trip to his hometown. I didn't want him to miss the chance to reunite with old friends," Hana said. She glanced down at her belly, a serene expression on her face, and confessed, "I...want to have the baby here."
There was something about the sight of it that strummed at Chisaki's heartstrings. Hana was younger than her, a few years her junior, but she married early, was going to be a young mother, and even seemed to embrace motherhood so naturally. Compared to her, Chisaki still struggled to wield her years, could not wield it as well as others did. When she spent time with Manaka or any of her childhood friends, she felt the dissonance in their ages–she, a low bass to Manaka's high, sonorous pitch. And with her high school friends, there were times she felt out of tune with the rest. How, then, should she cope?
"I hope you don't find me rude for asking, but how long have you and Egawa been together? Where did you two meet?"
"Six months." And then, she must have read Chisaki's astonished look, because Hana acknowledged with a smile. "Yes, that short a time. I was a freshman, while he was a sophomore. We happened to be seatmates in a subject he needed to repeat because he didn't get enough credits. Would you believe that I helped him pass the exams, no, the whole subject, even?"
They laughed together at the thought of it.
Despite her astonishment, Chisaki was compelled to hear their story, so she pushed on. "And you dated after you got to know each other after that one class?"
Hana nodded, a modest bob of her head. "I'm the one who asked him out first." She beckoned Chisaki to come closer, aligning mouth to ear and lowering her voice to a timid wisp of air. "It was our first month when I got pregnant."
Chisaki fumbled for the right words to say, all while feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. There were just some things people were embarrassed to hear and for Chisaki, this was one such thing.
"Oh Chisaki-san, I'm sorry. I must have made you uncomfortable." Hana stared up at her with troubled eyes.
Chisaki stared back, considering for a moment, before she wagged her head from side to side, and smiled gently.
"You see, among my group of high school friends, Egawa-kun's the first to get married. For me, the news was so sudden because we are all still students, no matter if we're already in college. In my mind, the idea of dating and marriage are distant things. There's still the ordeal of graduating from college, finding a job, succeeding in your career, and when all that's done, love would just fall into place–a natural order of things. But, I see that life sometimes has different plans for each one of us, for you and Egawa-kun, for my family and friends..."
...for her. And if she would fall in with those plans or not was up to her.
Now, it was Hana's turn to be speechless, but it was less of surprise and more of wonder. In time, she also mirrored the smile on Chisaki's face.
"Am I intruding on your girl bonding?"
"Takeshi," Hana greeted pleasantly. "No, it's okay."
"How are you holding up, Chisaki? My Hana hasn't scared you off with her stories, has she?" Takeshi teased as he sat down next to Hana, a telltale dimple of a grin waiting to emerge on his face.
"Oh, dear. Are you speaking from experience?"
"Would you murder me if I am?"
Hana gasped. "And deprive my child of a father!? Gutless as he may be?"
"Hey, you were just bolder than me!"
In between the couple's mock argument, Chisaki could not help laughing. A moment later, Hana joined in too–a laugh like the crinkling of flower blossoms when the wind combs through the branches they nestle on.
"Oh," murmured Chisaki. It dawned on her: Hana. Flower.
She watched the scene unfold before her–Hana punching Takeshi on the arm, but he, hauling her in for a bear hug. The woman did not put up much resistance and burrowed her head into his chest. After a while, Takeshi planted a kiss on his wife's forehead and then, held her at arm's length. "Just one more hour, okay?"
"Okay."
They exchanged a few more words before Takeshi sprung up to return to his seat among the men.
"You seem so much in love."
Hana smiled. "How about you, Chisaki-san? You said there's a time for love. But have you stopped to think if love might already be knocking on your heart and just waiting for you to open your doors?"
The words struck a chord with her and she found her sea-blue eyes straying across the room, towards the far side, seeking a dark, mussy–no, his hair wouldn't be mussed up right now, she had to remind herself–head, thin straight lips, and a pair of violet eyes, only to realize those eyes were gazing back at her. For a moment, Chisaki was caught between looking away and towards, but those straight lips were suddenly not straight anymore, but curved into a bow–a smile.
And on her lips, she, too, found a twin smile.
Tsumugu lowered Shun bodily onto the tatami of the Sayamas. After the third or so broken beer bottle left crumbles of glass littered all over and beer spilled on fhe thrice-soaked padded floor, they unanimously agreed to put a halt to the festivities. The three times instigator of the fiasco, Shun Sayama snored obliviously, sprawled like an upturned turtle on the floor. Surely, it was uncomfortable lying one's back on a cushion, but thoroughly drunk people hardly cared about the state they were in.
"Man, he's wasted." Takeshi nudged Shun with a foot, but only solicited a grumble.
"Ugh. He reeks! Just how many bottles did he drink?"
"Somebody needs to take him home."
For a decisive second, all eyes flickered towards Tsumugu, an identical current of thoughts running in each head.
"We'll take him home since Saya Mart's on the way," volunteered Tsumugu without reluctance.
"I knew we could count on you, man. Thanks, Tsumugu!"
That was how, half an hour later, Tsumugu and Chisaki found themselves ensconced inside the Sayamas' living space.
Mrs. Sayama peered down at her son and shook her head regrettably. "Oh my, I told Shun not to drink too much. The men in our family can't hold their liquor."
"Just like his father when he reached the legal age. Dumped on our doorstep during the late hour, lost in oblivion."
"Mother," said Mrs. Sayama to the frost-haired, elderly woman, who just entered the room.
Granny Sayama frowned at the supine figure. They did not expect her to yank Shun off the floor with unimaginable ease of strength and honk into his ear, "Boy! Wake up!"
"Hrgh, one more...please..." Shun mumbled incoherently.
Tsumugu did not know whether to be amused or concerned at this blunt way of handling the half senseless Shun.
"Will he be alright?" Chisaki whispered worriedly.
As if on cue, Mrs. Sayama turned to them. "Kihara-kun, Hiradaira-chan, thank you for bringing him home. We'll take it from here."
The two had no choice but to surrender Shun to the ministrations of the Sayama women and make their exit from Saya Mart, pushing into the winter night, as the echoes of a loud slap, slap followed in their wake.
They walked in comfortable silence along the sea wall, guided by the pale moonlight. Tsumugu had taken the same route going home with Chisaki countless times before, yet there was something different about now. Was it the clothes they were wearing? The roundness of the moon? The gushing tide? No, it was something else.
Chisaki's wooden slippers were creating a rhythm–clack, clack, clack–until Tsumugu was suddenly aware that they had clanked to a stop.
Chisaki gazed far away, beyond the dark, yet shimmering body of water, beyond the point where sea met sky, gazing, in her mind's eye, at an unseen turn of thought.
Tsumugu asked gently, "Do you want to visit your parents?"
Chisaki's eyes did not leave the sea. She was silent and all he could capture was the waves rushing and going like the count of a heartbeat. Tsumugu waited for her to stir back to life.
Finally, Chisaki exhaled a puff of breath. "No, not today. I don't want to ruin your grandma's kimono."
Not too long ago, Tsumugu asked Chisaki to show him Shioshishio, her Shioshishio. For a precarious moment, there was a cloud of hesitation in her aquamarine eyes, a quiver to her lips. But her voice managed to escape from its hollow cavity. "Yes."
Tsumugu weaved their hands together and they stepped deeper into Shioshishio. When they reached a crossroad, Tsumugu flicked a glance at Chisaki. She pointed uphill. By the next fork in the road, Chisaki's feet were already moving before Tsumugu could think to pause, now leading the way for them, instead of the one being lead. She tugged on Tsumugu's hand, taking him through streets narrow and wide, picking out fragments–"This is the bakeshop where they sell Manaka's and my favorite pastries. That road leads to the Sea God's shrine. If you follow those signs, you can get to the old elementary school. There's a playground outside the school where we loved to play. Those steps take you to the terraces. On those grounds stands a very grand and old willow tree that already existed before my parents' time."–as if Chisaki had opened a passage into a Shioshishio from its former life, dappled with sunshine during the day, speckled with blue light during the night.
"Hikari's and Kaname's houses are over that way, while Manaka's house is in the opposite direction. When we attended school in the sea village, we would wait for Manaka at our usual meeting spot. She almost never arrives earlier than us, so Hikari bullies her for it."
"Our neighbor keeps a flower garden. She asked me to take care of her rhododendrons if I ever woke up earlier..."
Chisaki slowed to a stop in front of a modest-looking, two-storey house no more different than the one before or after it. She eyed the house with a melancholic air and wordlessly crossed the front yard.
Tsumugu stayed back at the gate. He brushed off the thick dusting of saltflake snow on the nameplate, uncovering the letters 'Hiradaira'. His glance returned to Chisaki, who stood at the doorstep, smiling somewhat sadly. Chisaki turned the doorknob, shaking off the snow that encrusted the door as it swung open.
Tsumugu followed into the house. The windows and doors were shut and prevented the snow from drifting in. Inside, every bit of detail had the appearance of normalcy. He heard the patter of Chisaki's feet, as she flitted from room to room. Was she in Tsumugu's time or was she back in her own time five years ago, when she was still but a middle-school student coming home from school?
"Mom, dad–!" tumbled from Chisaki's lips.
She halted at the door to what he presumed was the kitchen.
"Chisaki?" he called out.
He went to her and saw what she saw–a man and a woman unmoving slumped at the table. Oh, Tsumugu did hear Hikari and the others' account about Shioshishio, but it was not the same, after all, witnessing it in person. If he did not know, he would have thought the sleeping residents were statues carved so realistically. They did not breathe, even.
Chisaki appeared to be almost the same unbreathing statue until Tsumugu heard her tremulous voice. "They said they would wait for me and they did..."
"...but I never came home," she finished and then, Chisaki was rooted in place, unable to go no further than the kitchen's threshold.
Tsumugu spoke, "We should move them to bed."
Chisaki's head snapped in Tsumugu's direction, meeting his violet hues. The seconds crawled until she finally nodded.
With Tsumugu's help, they were able to carry her parents to their room on the second floor. Lying in bed, they now seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Chisaki, too, seemed to be a bit more at peace. Tsumugu knew Chisaki could at last find her way back between her two homes, this and the one on the surface.
Now, Chisaki was physically present on the surface, but her mind was journeying in that other place, slumbering Shioshishio, and Tsumugu could guess at the anxieties she was chasing inside of her. She had outgrown Hikari, Manaka, and Kaname five years. Five years were already years too many for Chisaki. What if she outgrew her parents longer? Would they wake up in this lifetime? Frankly, they would not know the exact answer.
Yet, on that night, the two of them bathing in moonlight, Tsumugu whispered a little hope into Chisaki's heart. "They will wake up, Uroko-sama told us so. We might not know when, but the season's starting to change. So we have to believe that, when the leaves turn green and the grass sways, time will move again."
Tsumugu let his words settle in a comfortable nook within her and they continued their way home, Chisaki's wooden sandals going clack, clack once again in the night.
Chisaki padded down the stairs in her pink pajamas and blazer. Tsumugu looked up when she entered the living room. He, too, was bereft of his formal clothes and wore only his usual blue-green sweater and pants like nothing had changed. Tsumugu's ashen hair was back to its untamed state, strands falling all over his eyes. Nevertheless, this Tsumugu looked much more familiar and homelier to her.
"Grandpa?" Tsumugu asked.
"Fast asleep."
Chisaki joined him at the low-legged table, tucking her legs beneath her. A fragrant steam wafted from the stem of the tea pot next to Tsumugu's elbow. Tsumugu poured a cup, the scent–a sweet, soothing aroma–drifting to Chisaki's nose that she could not help commenting, "Mm, it smells nice."
"It's green tea with plum wine."
Chisaki raised a brow at Tsumugu. "Green tea and plum wine?" she repeated and then, asked dubiously, "Not...plum juice?"
Tsumugu shook his head, a smile marking the corner of his mouth. "Try it." He prodded the tea cup towards her.
Chisaki folded her hands around the cup and lifted it closer to her face. She stared down at the cup, as if trying to find her reflection or something not quite there. After several heartbeats, she closed her eyes, sucked in her breath, and touched her lips to the cup. Hot liquid went down her throat. At first, it tasted tart, but a second sip told her it was tart and sweet at the same time. The taste did not linger long, neutralized by the grassy taste of green tea. She decided she liked the taste after a few more sips.
"It tastes nice too," Chisaki murmured, putting down the cup on the table.
Tsumugu said quietly, "So, you found out."
Chisaki smiled, tracing the rim of the cup as if she was tracing a half moon. "I found the empty bottle of plum juice when I was cleaning the kitchen the other day."
"I should have cleared it out months ago before I left for university."
"Well, that's one time I'm grateful for your carelessness. You must have been laughing inside seeing me getting drunk on, on plum juice!" Chisaki groaned, hiding her embarrassed face in her palms, muffling her last few words. Chisaki heard a choking sound and parted her fingers to peek at Tsumugu chuckling in amusement.
"I knew it!" moaned Chisaki. She sobbed into the table, until sob eventually turned into gasps of breath and then, gasps of laughter. They laughed a good deal, or rather Chisaki laughed while Tsumugu mostly listened, at other recollections from their younger years–the years they had spent together and those they had not. Soon, the tea pot and Chisaki's heart weighed much lighter than when Tsumugu poured the first cup.
"I have something here," Chisaki said and reached into the pocket of her blazer, producing a small, dark blue rectangular box ribboned by a red lace.
"What is it?"
"Just open it."
Tsumugu tugged on the ribbon and popped open the box. He plucked off the sole content of the box, a pen. He rolled it between his fingers and read the engraving: his name, Kihara Tsumugu.
"I know it's not the most unique of gifts, but I wanted you to have something to write with when you someday become Dr. Kihara. So, congratulations, Tsumugu!"
Tsumugu turned the pen over in his hand, until he replaced the pen in its box. "Thank you, Chisaki. I will treasure it."
Tsumugu got up to his feet and squat down next to Chisaki. "Open your hand," he told Chisaki, his hand disappearing in his pants pocket and reappearing, his hand closed in a fist. He hovered his fist over Chisaki's upturned palm and dropped a velvet pouch on it. "For you. Congratulations."
Chisaki, curious, pulled the drawstring loose, emptying the contents onto her palm. It was a silver bracelet. Chisaki dangled it in the air to inspect more carefully. The bracelet was comprised of translucent sea-blue stones of irregular shapes.
Chisaki murmured, "Beautiful."
"Mermaid's tear."
"Hmm?" Chisaki's own sea-blue eyes were fixated on the stones, mesmerized still.
"That's what they call sea glass."
"Is this why you were being so secretive? You were out every day since you came back to town for the Coming of Age ceremony."
"I was looking for sea glass of that particular color. They are pretty hard to find, I realized."
"And the all-nighters you were pulling? You were actually working on this?"
Tsumugu averted his eyes in a rare show of embarrassment. In their six years together, he never gave her a gift like this and for him to give her such a personal gift meant a lot.
"Thank you, Tsumugu," she said fondly, fingering the smoothened stones. She unlatched the clasp and offered up the bracelet to Tsumugu. "Will you put it on me?"
Tsumugu stared thoughtfully for a moment before taking the bracelet from her. Chisaki laid out her left wrist. Tsumugu was careful not to graze her skin as he put the bracelet on her.
"It matches your eyes," Tsumugu complimented and as if to reinforce it, he gazed straight into her sea-blue orbs. Chisaki was suddenly aware, her senses heightened, of how much those intense violet eyes have watched her.
Chisaki smiled from the bottom of her heart. She inhaled a deep breath, exhaled, inhaled deeply again, and then, exhaled a trembling breath. She felt a foreign, wet sensation on her cheek and touched her fingers to the tears that had now trickled from the corners of her eyes. "Eh? Why am I crying?" she asked herself in disbelief. Soon, she could not control the rivulet of tears streaking down her cheeks nor the erratic contractions of her heart. This was supposed to be a day of celebration, a day when they would shed off adolescence, don their adult suits, and be responsible members of society, yet why was she having such sad and sorrowful tears?
Tsumugu extended a hand and then, retracted it. He allowed Chisaki to cry on her own. But after a while, he asked, seeking permission, "May I?"
Chisaki did not answer nor did she refuse.
Tsumugu ventured closer, until he was close enough to wipe away her crystalline tears with the back of his hand. He placed a kiss on her forehead and cupping her cheeks in his warm hands, stared into her eyes. "It'll be okay," he assured soothingly before holding her close to him. They remained that way while Tsumugu rhythmically stroke her hair, until her sobs gave way to soft whimpers. Soon, Chisaki felt the tempest in her grow calmer. She gently pulled away from Tsumugu and dried the last of her tears on the sleeve of her blazer, unladylike as it was.
In the dim light, her eyelids fluttered down, painting shadows on her cheeks. "Oh, Tsumugu. I'm scared of the future. I never worried about it because I always thought I would have Manaka, Hikari, and Kaname with me. But now, I'll have to face it without them."
Chisaki was talking and not talking to Tsumugu all at once, lost in the billowing tide of some sea, the harbor nowhere near in sight. Blindly, she reached out for an anchor, her bracelet clinking against the side of the cup, as she cast out her hand and then, in response, another hand darted forth lithe as a fish and closed over hers. Warmth radiated from that hand. For a moment, everything in Chisaki stilled–her thoughts, her heart, blood, the tempest in her...
In the lull, Chisaki heard truth.
"You will still have them with you. They may be a few years behind but, in the end, it doesn't matter, because past, present, or future, your friends will be there for you, just as you'll be there for them. And," Tsumugu paused. "I'll be there for you, too. Today and always, if you'll have me."
As if the strength of those words were too much to bear, Tsumugu's warm fingertips were fleeing from her, brushing past her knuckle. How could he rob her so soon of such warmth? She chased that heat and caught his hand, pleading to stay. Tsumugu stayed.
Chisaki–she vaguely wondered if it was the plum wine's doing–drew his hand towards her body and pressed a kiss tender but lingering to his knuckle. Then, she rose higher on her knees, leaned into Tsumugu, and emboldened–this time, she was fairly sure it was the plum wine's doing–slanted her lips over his own and whispered into the shell of his ear, "Yes."
She was about to withdraw, when she found a pair of arms enveloping her. She was immovable at first, cheek pressed to his chest, but soon, found herself returning the embrace. "Thank you." Pressed so close to him, Chisaki felt Tsumugu's words vibrating in his chest.
Chisaki could not see his face, but she imagined him smiling. She closed her eyes, lips curling in contentment.
End