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It was a whim. The strangest whim. A true ‘wake up the next morning wondering why you did what you did the other night’ sort of whim. Well, maybe not that extreme. At least for most. But for Angel, this felt extreme. Perched on the dresser against the far wall in his room is a fish tank. A relatively small one, but a tank nonetheless. And sitting on a chair perched in front of the tank is Angel. Peering inside and watching as a vibrant blue fish floats about. Angel has never understood the idea of a pet. It might be because he can’t fathom taking care of something in addition to himself. Being responsible for himself was one thing but keeping something else—something smaller and more fragile—alive was another. Maybe it’s because Angel has never been able to know the joy of holding an animal, petting it, and adoring it. He’s had far too many incidents of accidentally touching animals and draining them completely before he realized what had happened. Since then, the concept of having a pet has seemed rather inapprehensible. Maybe it’s just because it seems like far too much work. Angel usually settles for both explanations. But now here he is. And there it is.
It was an impulse. One Angel can’t explain. They had just finished clearing out a batch of fiends that had infested an apartment floor. Angel happened to be standing near it when the police started sweeping the units. Something about its shimmering scales that glinted prettily in the sunlight captured his attention. He stood there, transfixed, when one of the officers picked it up. “What are you doin’ with it?” Angel asked, pointing at the tank in the officer’s arms. “It’s just a fish. We might ask one of the local shops if they can take it in, but honestly, we’ll probably just dispose of it.” Hm. So that was it. The life of a fish was hardly worth even a phone call. As he stared at the exotic fish, some weird bout of nostalgia started to stir within him. Maybe it reminded him of a long-begotten island life, living on the shore. Regardless of what it was, something possessed Angel to say, “I’ll take it.”
“What?” Aki wasn’t sure he heard it right, so he turned his head to look. “I said I’ll take it. The fish.” Aki stood there with a dumbfounded expression. Honestly, staring at each other, neither of them seemed to know what was going on. “Do you know how to take care of a fish? No, do you know how to take care of anything?” Angel felt rather indignant at that. “Yeah, I can take care of stuff. Besides, it’s just a fish. It should be pretty easy.” Aki folded his arms. “Taking care of anything is a lot of work.” The officer, tired of standing there, was already placing the tank into Angel’s hands. “I give it 24 hours,” Aki said as he turned his head back to his work. “If I keep it alive, you have to buy me dinner.” Angel dared with his pride—and dinner—now on the line. Aki gave a dry chuckle at that, “I’ll take those odds.”
Now it turns out that taking care of a fish was, in fact, not that easy. The first hurdle was getting the bureau to agree. Luckily, Makima seemed amendable to the idea. “I think it’ll be good for you to learn how to care for something. Or at least interesting.” The smooth way she speaks gets under Angel’s skin, just a little. As if this was a science experiment for her. Either way, he got to keep the fish, so it didn’t matter all that much. His supervisors gave him a strange look when he asked for books on fish care. Turns out they don’t have any of those on hand and wouldn’t raise his allowance to buy any. What a pain. But now determined to succeed, he dragged his ass down to the closest pet store and bought himself a book and some basic supplies. And now it was the next morning. And here he was, him and his new fish.
It turns out that this fish is a Siamese fighting fish, commonly known as a betta fish. Luckily for him, they’re known to be rather low-maintenance pets. And even better, he would never need to touch it. The ideal pet for him. ‘So, something even I can’t mess up.’ He hums, staring absently into the tank. His research also told him that betta fish are known for being highly territorial and usually attack another betta if put in the same tank. “You and I both can’t be near others, huh?” He never thought he would be able to relate to a fish, but he’s been proving himself wrong a lot lately. The fish’s gaze is distant and absent, but Angel feels as if it can see him. See through him. In that little fish’s eyes, Angel was no different than a human. The same as everyone else around him. Not an angel of death, or a devil, or a monstrosity. Just a human peering inside its tank.
Angel reaches out and picks up a small container sitting on the dresser beside the tank. It’s as blue as the fish and reads ‘Freeze Dried Tubifex Worms’. Turns out betta fish won’t eat just any regular fish food. They’re picky eaters. Angel grabs a pinch of the dried flakes and sprinkles them into the top of the tank. Watching with fascination as they float down and are gobbled up by the fish. Staring at it, he realizes that humans usually name their pets. He could just call it “the fish” or “his fish”, but if he’s going to invest in this thing he might as well give it a name. Angel stares, stares pretty hard at the fish. As if squinting his eyes really hard would manifest the perfect name for it. “Nope, this is harder than I thought it’d be.” He sighs, setting his chin down on the dresser ledge. His gaze drifting around the room, it settles on the container of fish food he had purchased. The brand name Hikari stands out. Hikari. That sounded pretty good to him. “Your name is Hikari now. Sorry if you don’t like it. But I guess it probably doesn’t matter to you, hm?” Staring at it, he wishes he could take its spot. Floating about in a small tank without a care in the world. Not worrying about paying for food or being contractually obligated to kill things. No, not a care in the world. That would be nice, he imagines.
Talking to the fish becomes a semi-regular habit of his. When he returns from patrol, he plops down on the chair and peers into the clear glass tank. He complains away to Hikari about all the irritating things that happened that day. Tells him about the interesting things he saw or ate that day too. Something about watching its fins flutter back and forth in the water is… soothing. Maybe there was something to this pet business after all. Maybe now, just a little, Angel can understand what it means to care for something else. Plus, he has the sweet satisfaction of proving Aki wrong and getting a free meal in the process. Win-win.