The corners of my mouth twitched. I had no doubt I was making the weirdest face imaginable.
“Not to mention you come here willingly to meet them. Quite odd indeed.”
“Dad, you just met her. Don’t you think you’re being rude?” Though Towada rebuked his father once more, he was clearly uncomfortable doing so, his voice wavering ever so slightly. Ayako was staring blankly into space, a muted smile on her lips.
I couldn’t take it anymore. “Excuse me!” I shot to my feet, brushing the oatie off my lap, and neared Akira. I removed the creature from his head and held it at eye level in front of me. Don’t give me that disappointed look. You know you can’t be doing this! “No more mischief during lunch, okay?” I said sternly.
It looked unhappy as if I was confiscating a favorite toy.
I politely asked again, and that time, the ones pulling at his cheeks also halted. “S-So sorry. I just had to,” I said to Akira.
“I don’t mind. They were making a fool out of me again, weren’t they? This is exactly why I’m disinclined to visit.”
“Again? What do you mean again?” repeated Towada, incredulous.
“You never told him?” his father asked Ayako.
On the verge of breaking, she wiped tears from the corners of her eyes, saying, “Well, you told me not to tell him anything unnecessary.”
“And that was ‘unnecessary’ to you? I question your judgment.”
“If it were truly up to my judgment, I would’ve told him anything and everything.”
“You’re still as thoughtless as ever, I see.”
That…was certainly harsh. His voice was grim, but Ayako answered with a smile. The oaties, currently milling about restlessly, had brought an unexpected levity to the scene, helping to lighten the mood.
Finally swallowing her bubbling laughter, Ayako turned to Towada. “Takumi, they’ve always been quite taken with your father. So taken, in fact, that they can’t keep their hands off him. But not any other ayakashi, mind you, just the ones here.”
“Being toyed with by invisible beings is insufferably irritating,” Akira said flatly, refocusing on his meal.
Towada seemed absolutely floored by the news, his hand and its chun bing contents frozen in midair. “All this time and I didn’t know?”
“What point was there in telling you?” his father retorted. “You can converse with them. I can’t—or even see or feel them. It makes no difference to me.”
“You really haven’t changed a bit,” Ayako quipped. She sighed. “No wonder people misunderstand you.”
“I just told him everything. What more do you want?”
“You shared facts, Akira, but not how you feel. Not your emotions.”
“Emotions?” His brows knitted somewhat. “Why divulge something no one else can truly grasp?”
Ayako, increasingly exasperated, responded, “Because that’s how we connect, how we understand each other! You are just exhausting—isn’t he, Haruka?”
“Uh…” Ayako! Don’t put me on the spot now of all times!
As I sat in flustered silence, Akira heaved a soulful sigh. He studied me, oaties still occupying his lap and shoulders. “This has all been nothing but a nuisance to you too, hasn’t it? You can’t share your sight with anyone without being tagged as delusional or made out to be the butt of a joke. If you ask me, there is no benefit to engaging with these creatures.”
Stumbling over my words, I said, “It’d… It’d definitely be a hard conversation to have…”
His gaze remained locked on me, deep and probing. Gently placing his chopsticks down, he reclined a little, the elegant silhouette of his interlocked fingers resting on his chest eerily reminiscent of Towada. Memories of that night in the park, the intimate warmth of Towada’s hand enveloping mine, suddenly flooded my mind and set my cheeks aflame. Pushing them aside, I willed myself back to the present.
“Tell me,” he began, “what do you think about them? Honestly.”
The ayakashi? Those fleeting, whimsical beings who flickered in and out of existence, some of which I could see, and some forever veiled from my perception? After interacting with the oaties and crossing paths with others of their kind, my feelings had crystallized into a single sentiment.
“To me, they’re like the ocean.”
“The ocean?” interjected Towada, his tone revealing genuine surprise.
“Yes, the ocean,” I affirmed, abruptly aware of his eyes on me and the fact that I was still standing. I sat back down on my chair, and my oatie crawled onto my lap, scampered up my shoulders, and gave me a nuzzle. The solid weight of its tiny body and the soft fur caressing my cheeks were undeniable proof of its existence.
“The ocean is vast and deep, and there’s so much about it that we don’t know. I remember reading that the challenge of researching the depths of the ocean is just as difficult as exploring the reaches of outer space. That’s why I think the ayakashi are much the same.” As I endeavored to weave my scattered thoughts into a cohesive tapestry, my words may have sounded hesitant and wobbly—but they were true.
Oceans cover the vast majority of Earth. Everyone on the planet knew a fact or two about them, but did any of us truly know everything? My own experience with the ocean was limited to the small sliver of its surface I’d swum in. The mysteries of the deep sea and the plethora of life teeming therein remained enigmatic to me and perhaps forever would.
I recalled a distant memory from childhood. With my small hand firmly in my mother’s grip, we’d stood at the shore’s edge. “Look over there,” she’d said, pointing to the horizon where boundless blue merged with sky. In that fleeting moment, the ocean, its gentle waves washing over my feet to erode the sandy earth beneath, felt as unreachable and profound as the stars overhead.
Like species of fish that had yet to be discovered, in the way that life could thrive in the abyss where light itself, let alone humanity, couldn’t reach, ayakashi were there.
“Though they’re hidden from sight, they still exist. And perhaps, if we’re lucky enough, we might get the chance to meet them someday.”
Returning to the immediacy of the room after somehow managing to voice all my thoughts, I was met with Towada’s stunned silence, his mouth hanging open. Uh, I didn’t say anything weird, did I? I’d never been great at articulating myself, so why had I believed my latest try would be any different?
“‘If we’re lucky enough,’ eh?” Akira shattered the quiet at last. “I see. A bizarre young lady you are indeed.”
While his statement bordered on criticism, there was an unmistakable playfulness in his demeanor. The corners of his mouth curled upward the tiniest amount, and a glint of something twinkled in his eyes. The oaties on his shoulders patted him in what appeared to be endearing approval. Their luminous sparkles seemed to convey a message, and if I understood them correctly, he was actually…
Praising me?
I felt my face light up like a lantern. “Thanks, I’m glad you think so,” I replied sheepishly.
A soft rumble, too deep to be a chuckle, emanated from him. Towada was looking back and forth between us, obviously dumbfounded by our exchange.
Seeking refuge, I nestled into the velvety fur of the oatie cradling my neck. When I caught Ayako’s eye, her familiar, maternal smile was as present as always.