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Darting, yes, even spinning, yet turgid: these are the fish that blur her periphery. The blue tank glow is inescapable. Why are aquariums always so dark? For contrast, probably—Mafuyu couldn’t parse one human face from another, but she can see those of the fish perfectly well. She wishes she couldn’t. Stop moving. Their empty eyes flash with every fin-flip. Stop it. The water doesn’t move unless you disturb it. Be like the water. Why can’t you be like the water? Be still. Her knees lock as she stares at the seagrass. Rooted. Fake, if its glossy sheen is any indication, but it’s stiff enough to resist the brunt of the motion. A carp twists between the blades. Disappointing.
Mafuyu is aware of her breath. She doesn’t like that. It’s not a drowning instinct, but there’s a certain tension to the narrow passageways between displays. A bridge across the sea. Exhausted by the creatures before her, she turns to progress.
Ah. A fellow traveler.
“Asahina,” she says, voice lifting with a vague surprise. “Hey.”
She’s so tired. She does not want to do this right now. She hasn’t found an empty tank yet. Nothing’s down for renovations or rehoming or anything. Feeling dense as a river stone, she bubbles some brightness into her eyes. “Hinomori-san! I didn’t expect to see you here. Are you enjoying the aquarium?”
Hands in her pockets, Hinomori—A friend of Hoshino’s, she thinks? Shiho?—shrugs. “I guess. Saki dragged me here; we’re trying to check out everything she missed during…” She trails off. Mafuyu’s smile tightens. “Anyway, uh, she’s watching a presentation on something. I got bored.”
“I see!”
Silence.
Shiho clears her throat. “It’s kinda more boring just looking at a bunch of fish.”
Impatience ripples in Mafuyu’s throat. This conversation was dead before it began. “Well, there’s plenty of educational value! If you read the plaques, you can learn all sorts of interesting trivia.”
Shiho shrugs again. Go read the damn plaques. “Sure. Um. You wanna read them together? More fun that way, probably.”
Why did she have to bring up educational value? As her senior, she’s basically honor-bound to say yes now… nevermind the fact that she’s only a year older. If that. She could say she has somewhere to be, but. Well. That’s so rude . Not as rude as Hinomori inviting herself along, but still. “Why not?” she says breezily. This room gets no ventilation.
“Cool. Think I saw some in the other hall.”
There is plenty of reading to be done here, but she’s not going to say no to a change of scenery. “Lead the way!”
Lead she does. A larger, atrium-style room opens before them. Refreshing. The walls are painted a pale, inoffensive blue—maybe a few shades off from an empty fish tank. Still, she would’ve been no worse off sticking to the one she has at home. Kanade asked her about it once. It’s probably strange to have a fish tank with no fish. Not that anyone but Kanade would ever see it. She takes a certain comfort in that. She explained the transparent feeling, and Kanade didn’t really get it—she never does—but she smiled her faint sort of smile. That was reward enough. Mafuyu could probably get that same feeling of clarity from her hair if she really looked at it. Touched it, maybe. It would be soft, but soft like glass is soft. Smooth and harmless. Staring at the back of Shiho’s head, she finds the same color.
“Check these out,” says Shiho.
Coming to a stop before a large tank, Mafuyu blinks back into reality. More fish, of course. Big ones: sharks. Gray. Hm.
“I learned about remorae last year,” Shiho says. Her voice is steady. Soothing, now that Mafuyu has accepted her fate. “In biology, I think. They do, like, symbiosis.”
Commensalism, actually. The remorae don’t help the shark at all. She doesn’t correct her. If she did, she’d probably compose some useless thoughts about Kanade being a shark. A nice shark, though. A nurse shark. Her songs are medicinal. She wonders if the fish here ever get sad or sick or something. They’d probably have to take them out of the tank so they don’t drag the other fish down with them. Especially the remorae, since they get so attached to the sharks and would definitely make them sad or sick or something too. There’s a song in there somewhere. Not for Nightcord, though, because Kanade knows things, and she would get all anxious and weird and concerned and she—
“Hello? Hey. Earth to Asahina.”
Cast in the synthetic light, Shiho’s eyes could be mistaken for blue. Pretty. Mafuyu fixes her posture. “My apologies, I was lost in thought. What is it you were saying?”
Shiho rolls her eyes. Rolls her eyes! They’re hardly even acquaintances, and she has the gall to do such a thing? “Whatever. We can keep going.”
Mafuyu takes a deep breath. This girl’s manners are atrocious. She doesn’t have to be the friendliest person alive, but would it kill her to try a little? Affixing a fresh smile to her face, Mafuyu bobs her head in agreement. “There are many exhibits we haven’t seen yet.” Too many.
They head to the next section in silence. Long strips of floor slither from one side to the other, flat escalators, human conveyor belts. Shiho ignores them. Too slow. She and Mafuyu are of the same mind in that respect, at least.
Emerging into a warm nest of plastic mangroves, Mafuyu frowns. All of the tanks in the swamp exhibit are brimming with life, most of which isn’t even of the fish variety. Crabs, isopods, and salamanders alike scuttle about the enclosures. She shivers. Not as bad as bugs, but… ugh. Their frantic bursts of movement rattle in her bones. Kanade doesn’t move without cause like that. She telegraphs everything, walks and blinks and straightens her sleeves slowly, deliberately. Shiho’s not so different. Bracing her shoulder against a concrete boulder, she says, “Have you already read all this stuff or something?”
Mafuyu shakes herself internally. Kanade would never ask such a senseless question. Shiho’s temperance is born of apathy, not intention. “No. I’m just already familiar with the information they offer.”
“I mean, that’s kinda the same thing.”
She blows a strand of silvery hair out of her face. Mafuyu is almost jealous. She wishes she could demonstrate such carelessness—it would be so much easier to just exist , wash away all the pretense and be… transparent. Be a fish tank. Shiho’s clear as can be. Scratch what she thought earlier, Mafuyu is jealous.
“Let’s go,” she says abruptly.
Shiho raises an eyebrow, but follows.
They turn a corner into a little alcove. A door clings to the opposite wall, bearing a sign that greets them with bubbly font: We’re redecorating! Please come back later.
Mafuyu bites her cheek. Of course. There are probably all sorts of empty tanks in there, sealed away. What was she even thinking, coming to an aquarium to see an empty tank? The entire purpose of such an establishment is full tanks. Silly girl.
“You’re weird,” says Shiho.
Mafuyu’s shoulders tense. She wishes she could cry. That would show her. Shiho continues, “I mean, like, you’re really cool. Everyone likes you, you’re really smart and nice and like, pretty, I guess, but…” She leans against the blank wall and crosses her arms. “You didn’t have to come with me. Why did you? You probably have a million other people who want to hang out with you.”
She almost laughs. Exactly. A million people who know her name and her reputation and not a single thing else. Shiho among them, of course—but beneath the blue blur of the aquarium, she can almost imagine she’s someone else, someone who really knows her—
She kisses her.
Eyes open, of course. So close, it’s hard to parse the length of that gray hair, and if it’s darker, the shadows are to blame, and greenish eyes are really blue, really, it’s just the lighting, and the way she freezes—well, that part is right. Her lips are chapped. Blessedly dry amidst the water. Warm, too. So warm.
All told, it only lasts a moment. Mafuyu doesn’t dare touch her beyond the press of mouths, the brush, really, and then she leans back. Curses herself. Look what happens when you let the mask slip. “ You’re weird,” she blurts.
Face splashed red, brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, Shiho looks equal parts angry and pleased. She starts to say something. Stops. Swallows. “I—I should go check if the presentation is over yet.”
“Good idea.” Excuses flood her tongue, but all that emerges is, “See you later, Hinomori-san.”
She will not see her later. Shiho nods jerkily. “Yeah. Yeah, um. Bye.”
Darting around the corner and out of sight, Shiho is a flash of green. Seagrass. Mafuyu sighs and pastes on a new smile, furious with herself. Her phone buzzes in her pocket—foolishly, head swimming, she expects Kanade. It isn’t. Her mother wants her home. She got rid of that old fish tank. No animals in the house.
Mafuyu swallows. No animals, indeed.