Goldfish

Shinohara had bought Juuzou a goldfish. He kept it in an emptied, plastic, peanut butter-pretzel bin on the kitchen counter and fed it daily. Shinohara said it would teach him responsibility. Juuzou didn't understand—he took care of himself just fine. He could feed himself and he could fight ghouls on his own. He was responsible enough to look after himself, why should he look after something else?

Juuzou decided just to call him Kingyo. He didn't really care to think of anything too elaborate. Shinohara tried to encourage him, tried to make him feel excited about taking care of Kingyo.

"Why should I enjoy it?" Juuzou asked earnestly. "It just takes up space."

"Don't look at it that way," Shinohara reprimanded. "Everything with life has value."

Juuzou frowned at the fish as it swam circles in the bowl. "Even if it can't tell it's alive?"

Shinohara sighed, resting a hand on Juuzou's shoulder. "Just give it a chance."

So he did. Juuzou put up with Kingyo as he swam endless circles around his bowl, not even aware that he was trapped. Juuzou tapped the food into the bowl every evening as he ate his own dinner, his irritation ever growing. What was the point of a fish? Why did he have one?

Juuzou talked to Kingyo sometimes. He taunted him for being stuck in a bowl. If he was feeling particularly bitter, he would consider not even feeding Kingyo until he remembered Shinohara and what he would say if he found out Juuzou had neglected his pet.

Just as there were days Juuzou felt resentment towards his fish, there were days that he would smile at him and poke at the plastic container with his finger. He laughed when Kingyo darted away and he fed him eagerly. He didn't enjoy Kingyo, but he did enjoy watching his situation. He was a curious little thing, trapped in an endless cycle of eat, swim, breathe, and he never seemed bothered by the fact that his existence was meaningless. Kingyo could vanish from the face of the earth and no one would care. Juuzou would notice, and Shinohara might scold him for not taking better care of his fish, but no one would care that Kingyo existed or ceased to exist.

But there was nothing special about dying anyway. You only got to experience it once, so maybe people were just trying to save it for later, like when Juuzou saved his favorite donut for last. It happened worldwide on a regular basis. It was part of the cycle, but it always came at the very end. Eat, swim, breathe, die. Maybe it was the certainty of death that scared people. They were afraid because they didn't like having their fates decided for them. Juuzou didn't understand their obsession with fear.

It was three in the morning when Juuzou woke up again. He smiled at the clock and got out of bed, humming loudly and dancing out of his bedroom. He still had to feed Kingyo. But first he wanted something for himself.

He prepared a bowl of cereal and settled down at the table. Kingyo's bowl was right in front of him, the dull pellets of food next to it. Juuzou grinned widely at Kingyo.

"Those aren't colorful at all. How do you only eat those every day?"

He didn't get an answer, but Juuzou wasn't so stupid as to expect one. He separated the sugary marshmallows from the dull wheat flakes and popped them into his mouth. He eyed the fish food with narrowed red irises, a grin still plastered on his face.

"I think you would like these, Kingyo. These are much better than fish food. Don't worry—I'll share. Here, have one." Juuzou dropped a marshmallow on the surface of Kingyo's water. Kingyo darted away from the shadow of his hand then rose to the surface as the sugar started to diffuse into the water. He nibbled obliviously on the new substance. Soon, he was swimming in rapid circles, delighting Juuzou.

Suddenly, Juuzou's smile dropped in favor of a serious, wide-eyed expression. He launched his hand into the bowl, snatching Kingyo out of the water and pulling him from his environment. Juuzou held the fish between his thumb and index finger, pinching his fins to his sides as Kingyo tried to free himself.

Juuzou raised Kingyo to eye level, analyzing his tiny, writhing body. "Your eyes are blank," Juuzou commented. "You don't know what's happening. You don't know that I'm holding your life in my hands at this very moment."

Kingyo continued to struggle wordlessly. Juuzou spooned more cereal into his mouth as he watched. Minutes passed.

Juuzou set his spoon down. The marshmallows were gone and the wheat flakes were on the table. All that was left in the bowl was milk. With a strangely surprised expression, he dropped Kingyo into the milk. Kingyo sped around, but soon the milk began to strangle him.

"Mama used to talk about fish. She said they were funny because they could breathe in water but no where else. Mama says fish are useless pets because all they do is swim."

Juuzou stood up from his chair and smiled sweetly at the fish in his bowl. Kingyo was slowing down as he suffocated. "Dependence is weakness," he scolded the fish. "You should learn to be more responsible."

Juuzou left the bowl on the table and hummed happily all the way back to bed. "Shinohara will be so proud of me~!"