Note: A reminder, again, that this part is slightly AU-ish.
Growing Pains 5
They were not grown-ups, but 'growing up', because it was, after all, a process that people would keep going through for the rest of their lives. There was no 'end' to growing up.
The path was a steep climb up a dirt trail that slipped in and out of a forest of trees sprinkled white with the saltflake snow. It was a bit insane, taking a hike up a snowy cliff in their fineries, but Chisaki insisted they visit the Fish shrine, even when, halfway there, she gave a squeak, stepping her foot into a deep patch of snow. She could not stop shivering afterwards. But despite that, Chisaki was not the least bit discouraged, so even though it was not enough, Tsumugu could only warn her to be careful.
The ground leveled out abruptly and the trees parted to make way for two pillars–the entrance to the shrine. They paused to catch their breath before they ventured onwards. Passing through the gates was like passing through a portal that somehow teleported them to another place or moment, like stepping into another realm. There was an inexplicable, sacred silence surrounding the sanctuary, highlighted by the absence of any of nature's sounds–the churning waves, the cry of seagulls–that had been part of the background not more than a minute ago.
This place was, unlike the rest of town, a place suspended in time, a place connected to that underwater world.
Tsumugu and Chisaki stepped closer to the altar, their footfalls muted by the snow-cushioned ground. Two licks of blue flame, one on the right, the other on the left, danced fervently at the foot of the altar. On the floor of the shrine was a litter of offerings–winter-dried flowers, a sundry of fruits, incense, a bottle of rice wine and hidden underneath the pile, a glaring red that was too out of place, was an adult magazine. Chisaki quirked a quizzical brow at Tsumugu, who was unfazed.
"It was a favor for Mukaido."
"To please a god or more appropriately one of his body parts?"
"It was offered with Mukaido's sincerest intentions."
This was as far as he would admit; he did not need to mention making not just one but several trips to the convenience store and heading for the magazine racks.
"Oh, Tsumugu," Chisaki intoned helplessly, but said a word no more. Without a sound, she moved forward and bowed her head while touching her palms together. Tsumugu followed her gesture and together, they offered their prayers.
On the shore of his thoughts, Tsumugu wondered if the Sea God could hear their voices. Would He listen to the voice of a halfling?
A gust of chilly wind blew that disturbed the still life scenery, rustling the stiff branches of trees and plucking away frosted leaves, casting them on the bed of snow and some more on the frozen lake.
"You have come to ask for a boon."
Tsumugu and Chisaki turned their heads in the direction of the voice.
"Uroko-sama!" Chisaki cried when they sighted the light-haired figure reposing atop the pillars. He sat up, bracing his palms on the beam. The scales on his limbs and chest flashed a brilliant gradient of sea-blue and silver-white under the wink of the sun.
"I see you are both well-dressed today."
"Today is our Coming of Age," Tsumugu said.
"Ah, yes. Coming of Age–a celebration I have not beheld in recent years. As you know, the sea village still sleeps."
"Except for a few," Tsumugu added, putting emphasis on 'few'.
"Indeed," agreed Uroko. He pushed his legs high up and then, jumped off from his high place, landing lightly on his feet. He circled around Tsumugu and Chisaki, sauntering towards the interior of the shrine, and dropping cross-legged on the floor. He regarded the two of them for a moment. "I suppose it is proper for me to give a blessing to the children of the sea."
Tsumugu must have shown surprise on his face, for Uroko turned his slit pupils on him, his mouth cracking into a wild grin. "You have been granted ena, so you have been recognized as a child of the sea, have you not?"
Tsumugu knew the answer, then.
"Uroko-sama, do you..." Chisaki's voice faded out, at first. "Do you know when my parents, when Shioshishio will wake up?"
Uroko's amethyst gaze slithered towards her. There was an almost serpentine quality to it, Tsumugu thought. Uroko was silent for some time before he opened his mouth again.
"It is a cycle. When the snow melts, spring will bloom. This eternal winter will run its course."
"You mean...?" Chisaki trailed off, a sliver of hope latching onto his promising words.
"I am but a mere scale formed of the Sea God's flesh or as you said, body part."–Uroko spared Chisaki a knowing look, to her chagrin–"I know neither God nor Nature's precise designs. I know only that everything that has been shall come to pass."
There was a popular expression among Oshiooshi residents lately, 'neither tail nor scale', a popular reply to the equally infamous question that Shun was asking them right now.
"Did you see Uroko-sama?"
But Tsumugu and Chisaki did not answer 'neither tail nor scale' as expected. Instead, in reply, they both nodded solemnly and the rest, Shun and the others would never hear of, because the ceremony started soon after.
The master of ceremonies made his opening remarks and introduced the guest speaker–a short-legged, dapper man who looked to be in his late twenties, wearing a black hakama. He climbed, or rather skipped up the stage and began with several ehem's before rushing headlong into his hour-long speech that would likely be less than half-remembered by the audience by the time he ended.
"You! Yes, you!"
Next to Tsumugu, Shun, who was having trouble staying alert, jumped in his seat, startled awake by the booming voice. Shun surveyed his surroundings, disoriented. "Is it over yet!?" he blabbered, drawing the unwanted attention of neighbors.
"...You, who are standing on a precipice of indecisions, have the courage to face the future...!"
"Oh, god," croaked Shun, a flash of grimace on his features. "Apparently, not."
On Tsumugu's other side, Chisaki let out a short giggle at Shun's reaction.
"Well, this certainly makes our ceremony memorable," Kaori remarked in amusement.
"The only memory I'll have of him is yodeling like a theater performer, for crying out loud," grumbled a moody Yuu.
"He's just very...enthusiastic," Chisaki amended kindly, turning towards Tsumugu for his support.
"Role model material?" suggested Tsumugu.
"That's right."
For the remainder of the hour, everybody tried hard to be on their very best behavior. Although, when Mr. Dapper left the stage, there was a not so subtle collective sigh of relief. The mayor, whose fisherman roots were undeniable in his tanned skin and sturdy built despite his age, was called on stage for the closing remarks.
In contrast to Mr. Dapper, the mayor was neither grandiose nor verbose in his words. He walked steady, even steps forward and when he reached the dais, tapped the microphone once, then he simply bade the whole room a plain, "Good morning," and, in earnest, shared an anecdote of his childhood.
The youngest of four boys with an age gap of seventeen years between him and the eldest, he enjoyed his childhood at a leisurely pace, having three older brothers to share responsibilities at home. But tragedy struck and he lost his father and three brothers all at once in a fishing accident that would change his circumstances forever. With his small body, he worked for his father and brothers' share, casting his father's fishing net out on the sea, heaving the net out of the water with his slim arms and short hands, and rubbing the skin of his palms raw on the rope. He cried from the pain, but he never let his mother know until, one day, his mother took him aside and asked him to show her his palms. She looked pitifully at her son and stood up, disappearing into her room. He thought she was upset with him, but she returned with a bottle of ointment. He winced when his mother rubbed the ointment in gentle circles on his wounds. She said, "My dear, sweet boy, you are trying too hard to look through the eyes of an adult. You're still a child. Your body may be small and weak right now, but take each step in stride and you will grow bigger, taller, and stronger as you make your steps."
And this same advise the mayor offered to the youth. He did not talk of responsibilities or duties in society. They were not grown-ups, but 'growing up', because it was, after all, a process that people would keep going through for the rest of their lives. There was no 'end' to growing up.
The mayor got off the stage and Tsumugu realized that he was literally striding across the room, his bearing proud and tall, the bearing of a man who struggled through life from an early age, but still exuded a grace of youth. He inspired awe in the eyes of many that it was little wonder when the mayor earned a standing ovation from the audience.
A little after that, the attendees were at last given a chance to stretch out their legs and leave the hall. The ceremony was over, finally.
"Photo op!" squealed Yuu as soon as they burst out into the sunlight, yanking on Chisaki and Tsumugu's sleeves to drag them where the photographer set up his tripod.
"Could you please take our picture?" she asked the photographer, who waved a hand at a spot in front of the camera.
They pushed closely together for a formal shot, keeping still as the camera went ka-chak! ka-chak! It did not end at that, though, because Yuu kept requesting for one more, which the photographer gladly obliged. On the other hand, the rest who were getting their pictures taken grew tired after Yuu's fifteenth or so one more.
"Wanna see your pictures, Missie?" offered the photographer.
"Yes, please!"
The group crowded behind the photographer while he played back their pictures on his camera. They poked fun at everyone's faces in each shot, especially Shun. Tsumugu stood back some distance away together with Chisaki.
"It was a good speech," mentioned Chisaki all of a sudden.
"Standing on the precipice of indecisions."
Chisaki threw Tsumugu a stern look. "You know what I mean."
Tsumugu smiled. "Yes, it was good."
The next thing Chisaki said was just as sudden. "Is it okay that they're not here on this day?"
The smile on his lips drooped into a frown. He faced away from her. Tsumugu understood perfectly well who 'they' alluded to. " They said they can't come because the city is too far away from here, but I should come visit them when I return to university."
He kept his tone impersonal, but Chisaki knew better, her hand sliding out of her voluminous sleeve and landing light as a bird on his arm. Tsumugu touched that hand with his free one and kept his hand over hers for longer than should have been before he brought their hands down together. He maintained some distance from her while they looked on quietly from the background, yet Tsumugu could not resist sneaking a sideways glance at the woman beside him. She was smiling jubilantly, albeit, a little wistful-looking. Chisaki seemed to be aware of the pair of eyes watching her, because she spoke out.
"I can't deny that this would be a lot better with Hikari, Manaka, Kaname, grandpa, and my parents, but I'm happy to share this moment with them"–She glanced at their rowdy bunch of high school classmates–"and also," Chisaki stopped as if her breath was plugged by a cork before she pushed forward and unpopped it. "with you."
Tsumugu could discern the flush travelling to her cheeks as she shyly tucked her chin into the folds of her kimono. More than anything, he felt joy for this piece of truth.
Next chapter will be the last one and I will update sooner, I hope. It's been a long journey for me writing this, but I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Please drop me a line!