Chapter 3. Into the rabbit hole
The length of the fiber-glass rod ran long, it dipped out, over the edge and peered inside the endless blue. The thread was the more courageous one, it pierced underneath the surface, deep inside the waters. At the at end of the thread–What was it called?–was a lure with bait attached to it.
There was four-five parts to a fishing rod, of course, the reel brought it back in. The reel would… reel in the thread.
Its name couldn't be thread, right? It had to something else; more akin to fishing names. Reel, rod, bait, lure, and thread. Thread felt wrong.
He decided to focus on the tip of his fishing rod, watching it dip ever so slightly, it was tempting to see it bend – The sign of a catch. Of course, it would mean a fish awaited at the end, the grand prize of all fishermen.
"I wonder what kind of fish is here? Is it even possible to get lobster or something around here? I can really go for lobster, I heard it's delicious, I never got to try it. Sakura once told me she went to this fancy restaurant with Ino and they got to try lobster, and some other fancy dish that I don't remember. I just remember how she said it was good that I had to try it. I never asked how it tasted, and I never got around to going to that place. What was it called again? I went there once, I remember it being expensive. So I never got to try it,"
Something cracked in the grasp of his fingers. He took a deep breath of the cool, humid air. The loosened his grip, but his finger still felt rigid.
He was starving, he reasoned.
The rod pulled downward, so much so, like it would break. He felt the twitches in his hand from the rod. The stomach shouted, his mouth watered. The brain, however, was disappointed. The line halted, the rod snapped back straight and frozen.
Do lobster even bite after bait and lures? It is even capable of biting something like that? Along the lines of these thoughts, he remembered fishermen also used nets. There was no god damn net on this boat. How was he even going to get a net? The ocean was deep, he didn't even know how far it went.
Something cracked and shattered in his hand, it fell against the wooden floor of the boat.
"Damnit!" He shouted.
He reeled in the line, and before long, the lure swayed from the winds. He stared long, a desire to see it burn to ash in his hands welled inside him. Of course, that did not happen, such a thing wasn't possible.
"Fuck fishing!" He heaved the fishing rod, spun around, and flung it off the boat and into the distance. There was a measure of satisfaction, seeing the rod float, before sinking into the ocean.
This was way too hard, especially when he couldn't adhere to the rules.
He watched the sun. It dipped into the ocean; nearing the beginning of its sleep.
A threatening rumble. Behind him, in the seemingly endless ocean–because he hadn't thought about land–bloated, angry clouds, a corruption that continued to spread.
"That doesn't look good," He paused. "Well that's obvious,"
He moved through mess of the small boat. He alone could manage it. He pulled along the length of the rope, the coarse material ran through his hands. The sail and wood, lurched forward, swaying in the direction of the fast winds. The boat leaned to the right, water spilled in, staining the wood.
Naruto put his attention on the steering reel, how exactly did these things turn? What were they called? A rudder! Rudders underneath the boat allowed them to turn without the sails being moved, and allowed for precise maneuvering.
He turned the wheel, and the boat righted itself, surging forward.
That's how it worked; How it will always work in here. It was so much easier in the real world; They were just…there. He didn't have to think about it, just live and breathe and do. Simple, easy.
He didn't pay attention to how much time passed, all he focused on was the painful pangs in his empty stomach. Up to the moment the storm had caught up.
The clouds above had overtaken the calm blue, now convulsing with thunder and light. Rain fell from the sides, pelting him with its large drops. The waves grew rough, crashing and heaving. The boat–a slave to the ocean–Bent to the will of the storm.
Water spilled into the deck and washed away. Rain flew in from sideways, crashing against everything.
From the brief time he spent on boats, it was always wet. The decks were wet, inside was soaked, his clothing was drenched, anything and everything. In fact, he was sick of the waters now. But just because he was sick of it, didn't mean it was going to end.
The freezing touch of the ocean was never-ending. The waves were now mountainous, shifting and endless.
He held on the railing for support, his ship went sideways, but righted itself before it could drown. He rode at the apex of the waves, before dropping back into the water, very much like a ship should behave.
His limbs shook, goosebumps littered his flesh, and his fingers gripped the wheel so hard it felt like it might break. Even through all this, his heart was constant, calm, collected.
Up until, there was something he didn't expect.
A cliff of water that reached the skies. No. This wasn't in any rules. For the first time, in such a long while that he could barely remember, his heart flickered. The shadow of the wave drowned out the light. It warped, like a hand wrapping around his ship.
The water rushed upward, a wall, and his ship pierced its veil. It ripped his ship apart, anything untied or loose, was thrown overboard.
He knew a little about the ocean; cold, salty, and filled with life. Fuck the Ocean.
The muted crashes of waves far above. The mysteries of the ocean around him. It was cold too, his fingertips tingled unpleasantly. He still felt his weight, planted on the wooden deck beneath his feet. The sails of his boat flowed like wind push it.
This wasn't how things worked. It wasn't supposed to work like this, it wasn't even close.
"Hey, work damnit, don't break the rules. You see, we're supposed to sink. Ships aren't supposed to swim. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be really dark, and I'm not supposed to know which way is up or down." He neared the edge of his ship, and looked down below. "Hell, how am I talking right now?"
There was hum, and his heart stopped its beat. "When will you set aside play things?"
Her voice, melting, almost sinister, droll. However, with that melodious, enthralling tone, he couldn't have imagined how lovely the sound of another voice felt.
Naruto swallowed a thick lump. He turned to face her the source of the voice. Kaguya went down the couple of steps. Her hand daintily tracing the rails, her hair trailed behind her, tendrils flowing above from the weightlessness of water.
"What? Getting tired of waiting?" Naruto replied. He was almost uncertain on how to speak. How this dance of words was supposed to go with another person.
"Strange. No, I possess nothing of the sort," Kaguya said. She didn't glance in his direction at all. She stared idly at the things that laid around on his ship.
"Then," He paused. "Why don't you just get it over with?"
"You asked the same question not long ago,"
"Not long ago?" He sputtered. "Short a couple weeks, it's been almost…a year."
She spared a glance, her white eyes settling on him before she turned and gazed up into the surface.
Naruto felt all the fight in him disappear. The bitter taste of her presence all but disappeared. He couldn't bear to stand anymore, so he sat and leaned against the rails.
There was something about the silkiness of her voice that enraptured him; How she spoke to him, how it sounded. It was almost devoid of emotion, yet, simultaneously, filled with raw life.
It was so long ago since he heard another voice.
He cried no tears, she couldn't see this in the ocean. He hated how time had passed. He wished he never kept track, but he had too. Otherwise he wouldn't know how much longer he had to hold on.
"This will all be over one day?" He didn't want to it come out as a question.
"It will, yet, you already know how this will end,"
He couldn't remember the details of their last conversation. He yearned to hear more; To remind himself he was not alone in this world.
"I would never do this to another person, never, it's too cruel,"
"This is mercy,"
"This is torture."
"Is it?" Kaguya tilted her head to the side, her white eyes in puzzlement. Was she human? Could it ever be forgotten? She smiled, "How so?"
He didn't want to respond. Something curled in his gut when she continued to talk.
"Nonetheless, you have power to ease the journey. Why do you cause yourself strife? It's hardly any less than what the rest of the world is experiencing."
He had closed his eyes, listening to every word she said. How she would pronounce her words, slow, methodical. It carried through the water, like she spoke into his ear.
"Whatever gives you joy, it can continue, but not forever, not in here."
"We're just repeating ourselves now,"
She didn't respond. He opened his eyes, and she was nowhere in sight. It was only him and ship underneath his feet. The dominion he held had returned to him. The ship sunk, as did his heart.
All he saw was darkness. He didn't know which way was up, which way was down. All he could think was her words; There was truth them. He couldn't do this any longer, to be alone in this world.
When would she return? 330 days was the last time he had spoken to her. Kaguya had said it was not long ago. It had felt an eternity to him.
It was time to stop being so stubborn. Even if it was just a creation of his imagination, he had couldn't go on any longer without seeing another person. It hurt too much, it reminded him of bygone days, that he never wanted to return too.
Why did she have to leave?