178.5 Volume 7 Interlude: A Distant Memory, a Promise with Miyagi - Story About Buying My Classmate Once A Week

Volume 7 Interlude: A Distant Memory, a Promise with Miyagi I made a promise with Miyagi to go somewhere, but there isn’t really a place that comes to mind. I wanted the promise to be something enjoyable for Miyagi, so I asked, "Is there anywhere you want to go?" She just replied, "Stay at home," leaving us with no destination as time passed by. After all, home is a place to stay, not a place to go. Miyagi always gives me such unexpected answers Because of this, what would have been a simple promise with anyone else is coming undone at just the preparatory stage of deciding on a destination. I flop onto the floor, pulling the platypus-themed tissue cover onto my stomach. "Do you know any good places?" I ask the platypus, squeezing its soft hand. The platypus cover, now lounging on my stomach, is something Miyagi chose from amidst a multitude of tissue covers when we went to buy an electric kettle. Looking at its cute, relaxed face, I thought it would be nice to go to a place with lots of things like this, but all I could picture was Miyagi saying she wanted to go home. She doesn’t seem to dislike cute things, yet she never admits she likes them. "Hmm, cute things. Tissue covers, platypuses, crocodiles...—a zoo," I mutter. Besides the platypus tissue cover, Miyagi had a crocodile tissue cover in her room when she was in high school. She even knew about a dog breed, the Borzoi, which I was unfamiliar with, so I had once asked her if she liked animals. She denied it at the time, but I still suspect she's fond of animals. While she seems to like cute things, animals might be more important to her, so a zoo shouldn’t be a bad idea. Though crocodiles aren’t rare, she might be happy to see a platypus. Yet, there’s one problem: summer at the zoo is predictably scorching. Guiding Miyagi around under the blazing sun seems impossible; I’d prefer a cooler place. Moreover, Miyagi was hesitant to go out, citing "the heat" as a reason. "… Is there anywhere you can see platypuses other than zoos?" I muse, picking up my phone to search for indoor locations that feature platypuses. However, my hopes are quickly dashed. "There's nowhere in Japan where you can see platypuses, let alone indoors." As the conversation went back to square one, I let out a sigh. If platypuses can't be found in Japan, I can't think of any place likely to make Miyagi happy. "Platypuses, crocodiles, platypuses, crocodiles…" It's not a word association game, but I tried to find something in common between the two, while gently stroking the head of the stuffed platypus on my lap. That's it. A connection comes to mind: both platypuses and crocodiles live near water. "Aquarium." Considering what might interest Miyagi, an aquarium isn’t a bad idea. Unlike a zoo, aquariums are mainly indoors, so even though they might be crowded during the summer holidays, they're not as hot as being outside. While she might not see a crocodile, I don't think she would specifically want to see one. I don't know if Miyagi likes fish, but I've never heard her say she dislikes them. It seems like there's no other place that offers even a slight chance of sparking her interest and possibly making the conversation lively—even if only by a little. I sit up and place the platypus on my lap, searching for aquariums on my phone. So many aquariums appear that it becomes difficult to choose, and I tug on the platypus’s hand. I can’t pick a location that would require an overnight stay; Miyagi insisted on just a day trip. That narrowed down the options. "I wonder if there's a good place nearby." Searching for aquariums within a range that Miyagi wouldn't object to, I find several spots that meet her criteria and begin checking their official websites. If we're going to visit an aquarium, I'd like for it to be one where Miyagi will enjoy herself the most. Having her choose the destination would be the safest way, but I doubt she'd straightforwardly pick one. If asked, she'd invariably reply, "You decide, Sendai-san." Big fish, small fish. Dolphins, seals, penguins. While there's much to see, I want to take her to the place where what would make her happiest is seen most beautifully. "What’s fun to see at an aquarium?" I contemplate, gripping the platypus’s hand. I can’t picture Miyagi's face looking pleased. If it were me—what would I want to see? Though I've been to an aquarium before, it was when I was little, and my memories are hazy. Besides, they aren't memories I particularly want to revisit. Because the images of my family appear in those memories. I've been to aquariums several times. The most recent memory is from when I was in the second grade. My sister, two years older than me, was with me. * * * "Big sister, there's a weird fish!" I said, tugging on my sister’s arm as we stood in front of a tank. "Which one?" she asked. "The thin, long one," I replied, pointing at a silver, shiny, slender fish. "Hmm, that’s a cutlassfish," she explained. "What kind of fish is that?" I inquired further. "It’s supposed to be delicious when you eat it," she answered with a smile. "Really?" I nodded, taking in her explanation, and she added, "That's what it said in a book." "How about that one?" I pointed to a tank where small fish gathered to form what looked like a big fish, something I'd seen in picture books. "Hm, those are probably sardines," she said. "Sardines! I know those. It's a kind of fish we can eat, right?" "Yes, we had them for dinner the other day, didn’t we?" she reminded me. "Yeah, they were tasty." "I want to eat them again," she suggested with a grin. We stood there smiling, watching the sardines intently, moving on from tank to tank in fascination. "Big sister, what's that?" I pointed to an interesting-looking fish at the bottom of the tank. "That’s a bullhead shark," she replied swiftly. I might not have known much about fish, but my sister had boasted she’d studied up on them before we came to the aquarium, so she was answering all my questions effortlessly. My sister was amazing. She always taught me everything, and she hardly ever made any mistakes. "Is it called a nekozame (cat shark) because it looks like a cat?" I wondered aloud. "They’re called that because the bumps above their eyes look like cat ears," she explained. "Really? They don’t really look like cat ears," I replied skeptically. "But wouldn’t it be fun if their ears moved and they meowed?" "Fish don’t meow," I stated confidently. "True," she admitted with a laugh, and I couldn’t help but laugh too. Though you shouldn’t be noisy in an aquarium, we chuckled quietly and moved to a tank that looked like a coral reef, filled with colorful fish. Some were even familiar to me. "Big sister, look! There are clownfish!" I pulled her arm and we both giggled happily. "You're right, they’re really cute." "Can you eat that kind of fish?" I wondered. "Hmm, I’m not sure…" "But?" I leaned in, curious. "Hazuki seems to like them a lot, so let’s say it’s forbidden to eat them even if they are edible," she declared with a radiant smile and gently patted my head. My big sister wasn’t just knowledgeable; she was also incredibly kind. That's why I was glad to be her younger sister. Nearby, there was another pair of sisters like us, with the elder one teaching the younger something, but my sister was definitely the best. And definitely the kindest. "Okay, so clownfish are off the menu," I declared, smiling back at my sister. She pointed to the adjacent tank. "Hazuki, there are more cute fish over there." "Oh, really? Let’s go check them out, big sister." "Hazuki, wait! You’ll get lost. Hold my hand?" she suggested, reaching out as I started moving towards the other fish. The aquarium was dimly lit, with colors matching the inside of the tanks. It was also crowded, and I worried that if I wasn't careful, I might lose sight of my sister. So I held her hand tightly. "This is better. It's dangerous to get lost, so let’s stick together," she said with her gentle voice. Although I wanted to dash to the next tank like diving into the ocean, the aquarium wasn't a place for running, and it could be dangerous. So, I waited quietly with my sister for our parents and took the first step together. * * * "Cute fish, huh," I murmured, almost squeezing the platypus’s beak too tightly, and gently exhaled. After pulling a tissue from its back, I exhaled again. I hadn't intended to sharpen the hazy contours of those memories, but the past that flickered through my mind expanded on its own, and my thoughts drifted back to my childhood self. I gripped my hands tightly together. The past doesn't matter anymore. My sister and I are not who we were back then. Our parents’ attention had pivoted solely onto my sister, and somewhere along the line, the conversations between close sisters had disappeared. I tore those memories away like pages from a notebook filled with secrets. Yet fragments of those memories sometimes resurface, like today. I cast aside these fragments, burying them beneath other memories. "Hey, platypus," I called, addressing the platypus that Miyagi had brought into this room. I hugged it close. This tissue cover, which Miyagi picked out when we went shopping for an electric kettle together; the cuddly companion we brought back that day. It witnessed the moment I pierced Miyagi’s ears with earrings. This plush toy is filled with memories of Miyagi, and more memories will be added. The crocodile tissue cover in Miyagi’s room now is also a holder of memories.That crocodile witnessed Miyagi and me during our high school years. "The aquarium is perfect for us," I mused. While lumping platypuses and crocodiles into the same category as fish might be a bit of a stretch, they do share the common element of water, so it's not entirely unrelated. Certainly, in my current state, choosing what Miyagi would enjoy most and finding where it could be seen in the best light is beyond me. I haven’t talked with her enough to do such a thing. However, going to the aquarium together still has meaning. Every new memory made is a chance to learn one more thing about her. I continued researching aquariums on my phone. Some had enchanting jellyfish tanks or offered the chance to experience feeding the animals. The idea of 'flying penguins' even came up, which seemed intriguing. While I probably wouldn't have chosen an aquarium before, thinking about Miyagi makes me want to go to one with her. My heart is drawn to the future with Miyagi, rather than the hazy memories of my family from the past. "Thank you," I whispered, gently kissing the platypus's beak. It had guided me to the idea of an aquarium.