She sighs as she casts her eyes over the sight of the sea beyond her.
No matter where she is, she will always bound by the sea, for every time she breathes, for every time she wakes, for every time she thinks.
How many days turns to months and will eventually ascend to years as she thinks? She thought wistfully as she lay her hand once again to the window. Her eyes travel back for not long, back to the empty room where she is now.
How long she has spent her time to be … this static?
Is she the one who cannot move or is it the time that stops?
Is she a fool one to wait? Or is it everyone that wait for her?
"I will be your vice president then."
She cracks a smile at the nostalgia.
"Don't worry, it will be okay."
She folds her arms as she imagines.
"I will support you."
And there, she averts her gaze back to the sea beyond her, with a window and entire school building separate her.
"I'm sorry but I think it will be longer for me to be away."
She closes her eyes, her head starts to ache, as well as her heart.
"I can manage on my own, no need to fret about me."
Eventually, her body trembles, she bit her lips trying to suppress her distressed screech.
"Dia."
"Matsuura-san, is something wrong?"
Riko drops their goggles on the table at the time she finished. You and Chika take care of the gas tank and partly goofing around the sand as they speak. Kanan is looking by the bay, to whatever sea has in store to her. The blue-haired senior wears her usual calm persona, along with a small smile that Riko notices to be different than when she talked before.
"When you say about the voice of the sea, I remembered about something else," Kanan answers, Riko patiently waits as the latter pauses. "There's someone I know who loves the sea more than I am."
Amber eyes blink to the mention, Kanan continues.
"It is … the most beautiful voice of the sea for me, whenever she sings," her smile slips. "That was in the past, though."
Before Riko manages to ask, Kanan walks back inside her cabin, not looking back at the same sky and the same sea which a certain someone might be looking at.
(Or, waiting for a withering promise to be answered.)