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Shinkai Kanata was not meant to live on the land.
That’s what his mind was telling him on repeat as he watched the ocean’s waves lap on the shore, his legs unconsciously moving him closer to the vast expanse of water before him, reveling at the relief that just feeling the sand underneath his feet provided.
He’s not quite sure what compelled him to rush to the beach in the early morning, simply clad in a pajama shirt and a randomly selected pair of shorts from his drawer, but it had been something important, he was sure. It’s not like he would pass up an opportunity to get away from that suffocating household. The household that kept him away from the water he loved, the place he would never call a “home” again.
Shinkai Kanata belongs to the water.
He let out a sigh at the familiar thought, one that never left his mind, that played in his head over and over whenever there was silence. He had stopped trying to fight these thoughts long ago, rather finding a peace with them, allowing himself to love the “oddball” he became because of it. The ability to move at his own pace through life, free of anyone’s pressures around him – that was the ocean in him, the feelings he embraced to stop the ache he felt whenever he was pulled away from the real thing. It was the acceptance of these feelings that stopped him from getting caught up in the riptide of conflict again, his own special protection from any further harm.
He let the sounds of the ocean flood his mind, pushing those thoughts out to where they couldn’t bother him.
He finally arrived at the shoreline after what seemed like an eternity, the seafoam almost reaching his feet, but not quite. The sound of the waves hitting the sand called forth several emotions he couldn’t quite name, but he at least recognized the feeling of safety washing over him. He took another cautious few steps, letting the water pool around his ankles before being whisked away – as it always was. An endless cycle, old as time. The waves were similar to him, he mused, sitting down where he was sure he wouldn’t be whisked away by the water himself. There was always the chance that on early mornings like these, with no one else around, he would finally turn into nothing more than seafoam and disappear for good. He’d be lost to the ocean like he always feared.
There was a reason he never learned to swim, after all.
It was the deep-set fear in his heart that he could never shake off; the fear of the ocean taking everything he had, and him not being able to do anything about it. It was the fear that the ocean would pick him up and never let him go, dragging him out without any hope of returning to the shore, breaking him away from the life he had so carefully constructed to allow him to live in peace.
Shinkai Kanata was destined to disappear into the water.
He shook his head to ward away the thoughts that came creeping back into his mind yet again, focusing on the moonlight moving on the water to pull himself back to reality. The water soaked through his clothes as he lay there on the sand – not that he minded, of course. The water didn’t have any bad intentions towards him. It gave him comfort to be surrounded by it. The mother ocean loved him as it loved everyone, welcoming him back every time they met. No matter how many times he would return, it would always be the same warm welcome.
If he was in the mood to think about his issues, he might have come to the conclusion that the sea was more of a “mother” to him than he would ever consider his blood mother.
Shinkai Kanata has no reason to continue to suffer on the land.
Another wave crashing in his head, another ignored thought.
Kicking his feet languidly as he let himself fall back on the sand, arms splaying out haphazardly, his eyes shifted up to the still-starry sky. He realized in that moment, with the waves echoing in his ears, that there really was nowhere he’d rather be than exactly where he was right now. It was in these early hours of the morning, completely alone in the safest place he could think of, that he could call himself normal. After all, if nobody else was around, he was the majority. In this moment, alone on the beach at 2am, he was completely, entirely normal. He was a normal child, living a normal life with his normal family and normal personality.
Shinkai Kanata can never be human as long as the ocean is inside him.
He let out another sigh, letting the sounds of the ocean take over once again, washing away the thoughts in his head for what he hoped was the last time. There was no need to ruin the mood, and he scolded himself for almost bringing his emotions to a dangerously unstable place, especially when he was this close to water with nobody else around. He knew very well what would happen then.
(Then again, the small voice in the back of his head added in a voice too quiet to be heard, maybe something like that would be for the best.)
He could feel his eyes closing as he watched the stars; he was already tired from the long walk over, and the soft sand beneath him coupled with the comfort of the water definitely wasn’t helping him stay awake. Letting a final wave wash over his thoughts, clearing his head to simply listen to the sound of the waves crashing close in front of his feet, he let his eyes fall shut.
In a secluded corner of an empty beach, at 2:30 in the morning, Shinkai Kanata was at home with the water.