ineffable: something causing emotions too great or extreme, that it cannot be expressed in words
The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, contrasting perfectly against the dark golden colour of the sand between her toes. Behind her, someone let out a peal of laughter; the kind that instantly brought a smile to anyone's face the moment they heard it. As she was turning around, she felt familiar arms wrap themselves tightly around her neck in greeting, and found her face pressed against long dark brown curls not unlike her own.
"Morning, Eru! I've missed you," the girl said affectionately. "Mum told me I'd find you here."
"I missed you too," Eru returned shyly, pulling away from the embrace to get a better look at her sister's face.
"You've grown so much since I last saw you; you're already reaching my shoulder!"
"I have!" Eru exclaimed proudly. "Mummy says I'll be taller than you one day."
"You will," her sister said. "You just need six more years to catch up with me."
"I'll be faster," she responded confidently. "I'm already top of my year in elementary school!"
"That's amazing!" The pride in Umi's voice is unmistakeable. "Well done, Eru."
Eru beamed at the praise; there were few things more rewarding than being complimented by an older sibling that you admired greatly.
"I'll go to Teiko, just like you!"
"Aw, it makes me so happy that you're following in my footsteps, Eru. But remember: you have your own dreams and you are your own person, okay? I'll be proud of you no matter what you choose to do."
"Okay!" Her easy agreement betrayed youthful ignorance. "Oh, I forgot! How's Cambridge?"
Umi turned to face the turquoise ocean, pausing to close her eyes and breathe in the salt-tinted air. "It's nothing like home." As she continued sharing brightly about university life, Eru cast occasional side glances at her, trying to memorise how her eyes lit up and her hands gestured animatedly as she recounted her stories. Warmth and longing filled her chest and she reached towards her sister without thinking.
"Are you okay?" the older girl asked, squeezing the smaller hand that had found hers. Eru nodded, squeezing back harder, as if afraid that her sister would let go. Umi looked unconvinced. "Come on, you can tell me."
There was a brief pause as Eru considered how to string her feelings into words. "I know you're very happy, but I wish you could come home soon." Mummy's quite different when you're not here, she wanted to add, but she was hesitant to add any more burdens to her sister's plate.
Umi bent down such that her eyes were level with Eru's. "I will. Only two-and-a-half more years to go. Don't worry, I'll be home soon." Leading Eru by the hand that she was still holding, Umi headed towards the point where the clear waves touched the sand. "Isn't it pretty," she said softly. "Come on, dip your toes in it. I won't let you go, so don't be scared."
She thought it was odd that her sister said those words. After all, they had grown up with frequent visits to their vacation home by the beach – some of their best memories had been made playing in the warm sand and enjoying the contrasting coolness of the seawater beneath the hot sun. She followed her sister's lead, nonetheless, relishing the sensation of the waves swirling gently around her ankles.
Just then, a group of clouds that had been drifting lazily across the sky all morning hid the sun from view. Immediately, the temperature of the surrounding air fell by a few degrees. Umi was tugging harder at her hand, wading deeper into the water, forgetting that their six-year age difference meant a significant height disparity. Realising that she had to paddle to keep up with her sister, Eru let go of Umi's hand. In that moment, a particularly big wave swept towards her, pushing her back towards the shore. When she looked up to find the older girl, she realised that Umi had somehow drifted so far that she had become a tiny head of damp brown curls.
"Onee-chan!" She shouted. With such great distance between them, all Eru could see was an arm waving in her direction; Umi's face was too small to make out her expression. Another wave surged towards her as she called out for a second time, filling her mouth with seawater and bringing her further away. Panic rose in her chest as she desperately tried to paddle herself nearer. But a sudden realisation caused her to stop short: her sister was no longer there. Fear clawed at her heart as she swivelled her head to scan the horizon for the figure that had been there just a moment ago.
"Onee-chan!" She screamed again.
She woke up sweating, with tear-stained cheeks and a migraine pounding away at her left temple. As the exam season drew nearer, her nightmares had progressively been getting worse: all featuring interactions with her sister in places she remembered with particular fondness.
The silk sheets were too warm, given that her entire body felt overheated in the aftermath of the nightmare. Despite it being a warm spring dawn, she was surprised to find that the wooden floor felt oddly cold against her bare feet. She crossed the room to draw the curtains; then she allowed herself a moment to calm her dizzying thoughts. Outside, the sky was an expanse of muted colours; dull tones bleached of its usual vibrance.
Imbalance – that was what this all was. The strange, disconcerting dissonance that stemmed from a conflicted and distraught mind. The third anniversary of her sister's death had passed over the winter break, before the start of the new term, but it often felt like time had frozen since the day of the accident. Inside, she was still the same twelve-year-old who was anxiously trying to make her sister's achievements her own reality. Her desire to follow in her sister's footsteps had started off innocently – as a childish dream to become someone they admired. But over the last few years, it had morphed into something almost sinister – a pressure to pick up the mantle that her sister had unwittingly dropped and fulfil the combined weight of the expectations imposed on two people.
With all that had been happening recently, she scarcely had a moment to process the thoughts that were competing for her attention every day. Already, she was struggling to come to terms with Midorima's advice to accept Seijuro's situation. Although a couple of weeks had passed since then, she had yet to determine what that would look like: did accepting who he was include blindly accepting his actions, even when it contradicted directly with what she felt was right? Or if she opposed it, was she truly accepting who he was in its entirety?
She pressed her burning forehead against the cool glass of the window, hoping that it would somehow ease the chaos in her mind. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a thin, almost imperceptible crack at the edge of her window. It was barely observable now, but left alone, had the potential to spider out into something worse. Absentmindedly, she traced a finger along its length until where it disappeared into the frame. Then, with a soft sigh, she retracted her hand and pulled her attention away from the crack; there would be time in the future to address it.
The rest of the day raced by, with Eru focussing all her attention on her classes. Given the fast-approaching exam season, she could no longer afford to be distracted. Thankfully, this also served as a convenient excuse to avoid Seijuro – after all, he had occupied her thoughts for more than a year. Avoiding him meant that she would not need to resolve all the ambiguity that tainted their relationship, and it would buy her much-needed time to think.
"Eru." The exact person she had been hoping not to see loomed over her desk the moment the final bell rang. "Is there something wrong? You have not spoken to me at all today." There was a touch of hurt layering his otherwise even tone.
"No, no. Nothing's wrong," she said breezily. "I've just been too busy to talk." His eyes scanned her face for any hint of untruth. Feeling intimidated, she averted her eyes to the floor.
"Will you come for practice tomorrow?" His voice carried a note of uncertainty, almost like he was afraid of rejection. When she looked up again, she thought she saw a hint of something else in his eyes, beyond the usual steel; something like hope. This was all him: the coldness, boldness, uncertainty, hopefulness. They were all facets of the same person, not the good being concealed by the bad.
"Of course I'll come," she replied at last. If she had blinked then, she would have missed the smile that flitted across his face. An unexpected surge of warmth filled her chest. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I have to go for writing club now."
"I can send you home after your club ends," he said, just as she began gathering her belongings. She hesitated. On one hand, it was the first time he had offered to do it since the incident at the gym. But on the other, she harboured an almost irrational fear of being unable to interact properly with him when she had yet to process her emotions.
"It's okay, I don't want you to have to wait," she decided. "We can go home together tomorrow after practice. Thanks for offering, though." Waving goodbye, she turned away and headed for the door.
"Hi, ace," Igarashi straightened up from where he had been waiting for her across the hallway when he saw her exit the classroom.
"Thanks for waiting," she smiled. Glancing up at his tousled hair, she remarked, "You look like you just slept through all your classes."
"My hair's just naturally messy," he protested, before grinning. "But yeah, I did."
"You know there'll be exams in less than a month, right? And you're going to have to know what was taught in class…" She knew she was nagging, but she could not help but feel worried about his grades.
"Yes, mum, I'll work harder," he groaned. "But I'll have you know that all the extra naps are the secret behind my great complexion and sunny disposition."
She laughed despite herself and motioned for him to start heading towards the clubroom. "Okay, but don't come to me for last-minute tutoring services."
"Wouldn't dream of it." His green eyes twinkled mischievously, as if he had every intention of asking her for help the night before the exam. Then his eyes turned serious. "Anyway," he began, casting her a concerned look, "how have you been?"
Although the real meaning of his question remained unspoken, Eru knew he was asking about the events transpired the other week. While she had initially feared him beginning to treat her differently, their interactions had stayed the same. The only indication that he had witnessed her distress was the occasional harmless question about her day.
She shrugged to feign nonchalance. "I guess I'm okay – better, actually. Better than okay."
"You could at least try to sound a little more convincing," Igarashi's eyebrows were furrowed in disbelief. "Did something else happen? You don't have to tell me anything, of course. But I'm always around if you want to talk."
Where would she even begin? From that fateful match between Murasakibara and Seijuro? From the date of her sister's accident? It was hard making new friends when it felt like she had too much history that they would need to catch up on. The brief walk between their classrooms and the club room would hardly be enough time to cover all that was on her mind. "I've been having really bad nightmares," she said finally. "It's complicated. There's probably just too many things in my head right now."
"Is it anything to do with Akashi-san?" Igarashi regarded her thoughtfully.
"What- I- Um…" She stuttered, flustered by the unexpected accuracy of his question. "How did you know?"
"Oh, I was just guessing." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I noticed he kinda stopped waiting for you after our club sessions and lit class in the last couple of weeks."
"Yeah," she replied dejectedly. "He's been really busy since making captain of the basketball club."
"Wait, he's captain? In his first year?" Igarashi let out a low whistle, visibly impressed. "He must be really good."
"He is," she assured him quickly, unable to filter out the pride from her voice. "Captain of the Generation of Miracles and all that."
"The generation of what?" He was practically cackling.
"Shut up." Eru shoved his arm good-naturedly. "It's a big deal in basketball."
"I'm sure." The humour had not left his voice. After a moment of silence, he continued. "I guess he's really busy now. Does it upset you that he doesn't have more time for you?"
She took a few seconds to consider his question before shaking her head. "No, that's not it. I know he's busy, but I am too, so I don't really have any right to complain." Before she had the chance to continue, a dark-haired figure barrelled into them from behind, slinging an arm casually around each of their shoulders.
"Sup, first years!" Iwanaga greeted cheerily.
"Let go of them, Hibiki. If you make them uncomfortable, we won't have any first years left." Fukami had a tiny smile playing at the corner of her lips.
"Fine," he pouted. "I was just being friendly. You're no fun, Kanae."
"Say that again, and it'll be Fukami-san to you."
The third years continued their light-hearted banter as they unlocked the door to the clubroom and began arranging the furniture. Igarashi made a beeline towards the couch, settling himself down haphazardly such that he took up most of the space.
"Move over." She shoved his sprawling legs off her end of the sofa, quickly sitting down before he had the chance to reoccupy the seat. After an extremely short-lived tussle, they arrived at an agreement for the division of space. Regretfully, Igarashi had been merciless during the negotiations, and had secured a much larger area for himself to occupy for the remainder of the meeting. The triumphant grin stretched across his face was a testament to his meaningless victory.
Once the second years had streamed in and found seats for themselves, Fukami drew everyone's attention to the whiteboard in the centre of the clubroom, that was covered by an undersized cloth.
"Thanks for coming everyone! What we're going to do today is work in our pairs to write a piece about this month's theme." With a rather underwhelming flourish, she lifted the cloth off the whiteboard to reveal the words concealed beneath.
Fascination.
"Ooh, that's a good one," Tomatsu exclaimed, giving Mizutani a playful nudge. "Lots of room for spice."
Mizutani giggled. "We can create the perfect fictional man and write all about our fascination with him."
After the short moment to process the theme, Fukami waved to gather everyone's attention once more. "Okay, just to remind everyone, the purpose of this exercise is to learn from each other's writing styles, critically evaluate each other's work, and build on one another's creativity. Over the next few weeks, do find time to meet and finish your piece together. We'll present our writing to the rest of the club in a month. Any questions?"
She surveyed the room quickly. "If there aren't any, you can start! Oh, and if you have any problems, just come to me to bounce off ideas." Given that there was an odd number of club members, Fukami and Iwanaga took turns partnering one of the second years each month. The one without a pair would be the designated editor of that month's piece.
Igarashi turned to her as soon as Fukami had finished. "Got any ideas?"
She shook her head, while pulling out her notebook. "I'll need some time to think about it first."
"We could bounce ideas off each other," he suggested. "Brainstorm the themes, characters, narrative and all that."
It was soon apparent that the way Igarashi processed his thoughts was vastly different from hers. He was all for verbalising each partially formed idea that strayed into his mind, chaotically striking out ones that he deemed unfeasible, and replacing them immediately with a better one. The way his mind worked was a curiosity, and Eru could not help but feel a sense of wonder mixed with a smidge of envy.
Noticing that he had inadvertently begun to dominate the conversation, Igarashi fell silent and shot her an apologetic look. "Sorry, I get carried away pretty easily. What do you think?"
"I really liked your idea to include as many layers of fascination as possible." She chanced a look in his direction, hoping for an indication of his approval, or perhaps dreading the opposite. "I also think there's no reason to steer clear of romantic fascination, even if it's obvious. There aren't a lot of definitions for the word, so it'll help us create more layers."
He made a sound of agreement and gestured for her to note that down. "So, a fascinating person who is fascinated by something else?"
"Maybe, but that feels a little basic." She gazed at the paper contemplatively. Anxiety began to fester unbidden in her chest, as she searched her mind for a more creative angle.
"The idea doesn't need to be too deep," he shrugged. "It's how it's written that matters more. Plus, the general idea doesn't define what our specific themes will be. I think you'll be great at weaving in meaning between the lines."
The unease dissipated upon hearing his words. A bashful smile broke out on her face, and she ducked her head slightly for her curtain of hair to conceal the flush on her cheeks. Time passed by quickly, punctuated by thoughtful musings and witty conversation. When she had first been assigned Igarashi as her partner, she never thought it would be so enjoyable to share something so close to her heart with another. And yet, if the ache in her cheeks from smiling too much was any indication, it was going to be something she looked forward to every month.
As the session was drawing to an end, each pair briefly outlined their progress to the rest of the club. True to their word, Mizutani and Tomatsu had created the perfect fictional male specimen, but with a twist – their protagonist was an author enraptured by her own character and would be doomed to a life of singleness as a consequence of too-high expectations of real men. Iwanaga and Kirigaya, on the other hand, had settled on a grim tale of a child, whose tragic past created such a warped fascination with darkness, that it was given form after taking the child's life force for its own.
"Hey ace," Igarashi leaned towards her to whisper, while Fukami was giving the instructions for the next meeting. "If you're free after this, wanna go out and get your mind off things?"
There was a moment of hesitation – what if it was awkward? What if she had nothing to say? And then he grinned, and her shoulders lost all its tension. "Yeah," Eru found herself responding. "That sounds nice."
She was in high spirits when she exited the clubroom with Igarashi at her side. Prior to joining this community, she had never experienced the type of strong connection that one felt over shared appreciation and understanding of something; the kind she imagined the boys in Teiko must have had once.
"Hey isn't that Akashi-san?" Igarashi gestured to the figure leaning casually against the wall, with a novel held loosely in front of him. He looked up as they approached him, and Eru could not stop her heart from squeezing slightly at his unexpected appearance.
"Seijuro." Surprise coated her words. "Were you waiting for me?"
"I was." His gaze shifted to Igarashi, who was standing a distance away, and back to her with deliberate slowness. "I thought I would walk you home."
"Oh, I'm sorry…" There was no way to hide the uncertainty in her voice. "You didn't have to wait," she said finally. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but I just…"
"Did you make plans?" To his credit, he had successfully kept his voice even. However, the accidental meeting of their eyes confirmed Eru's suspicion that he was not pleased.
"Um, yeah we thought we might hang out a bit before dinner. We have a writing project to finish, and we thought it would be nice to get started on it while the ideas are fresh. You could join us if you'd like. I'm sure Igarashi-kun won't mind."
"No." His response was immediate. She tried to focus on his furrowed eyebrows or his mouth that was set in a hard line – anywhere except his eyes, that were dark with irritation and hurt. "I will see you tomorrow."
As he turned decisively on his heel, she felt her chest constrict with emotion; but her throat was too tight for her to call out to him again. A warm hand squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. It would be an understatement to say she simply felt guilty. Watching his lone figure disappear around the corner, it dawned on her that he could be feeling much more towards her than he let on. And, given how she was brimming with the temptation to pursue Seijuro and ask to postpone Igarashi's well-meaning outing, Eru wondered if she felt that much different.
A/N: thank you for your kind words in the last chapter; they were so wonderful to read! and thank you again for staying with this extremely slow-burn story LOL I am personally a sucker for relationships with solid foundations. have a happy chinese new year for those who celebrate!
