/ooo

Like a canvas of stellar proportions, as the sun sank on a horizon of inky black the sky was painted in a gradient of yellow, vermilion and purple. Night crept ever so slowly westward, dark blues stretching farther to engulf the light colors in darkness. Thin wisps of clouds streaked the sky, leaving the moon and stars visible to the naked eye. On a stone promenade, two figures stood side by side leaning on the railing, gazing out to the sea. A warm breeze carried with it notes of salt air and sweetness. It was such a serene and peaceful atmosphere, most certainly romantic.

The line tugged vigorously, as something was once again snagged on the hook. "Nine."

His remark elicited another glare from the blonde woman beside him. "What is this? I've only caught two in the past hour, and you have nine?"

"Patience, Yumiko. You cannot rush the fish." He silently chuckled to himself.

"Patience my ass." She retorted. "Switch places!"

"We've been doing that every time I snag a fish." She simply growled as he snickered at her. "Perhaps they are afraid of you."

"It is only natural that they are attracted to you. Your eyes look like those of a fish!"

"In this case, it is an advantage."

"No shit."

Miura slumped forward, her brows furrowed in a slight, impatient frown. Resting her cheek on the palm of her hand, she lazily pulled her empty line up. Not even the bait remained. "Cheer up. We can do this another day."

For the lazy, often languorous Hikigaya Hachiman, this was certainly a very pleasant way to pass time. All there was to do was stand quietly holding a rod in his hands, patiently waiting for a motion that would signal a catch. The temperature was nicely cool, and the sun's rays no longer had the sting of high noon. Silence, as smooth as the occasional breeze, well appreciated. Even better, having a companion with him made everything so much better than standing by himself like a poor, miserable fellow. In it, he indulged, much to Miura's displeasure. To her, this whole affair was extremely tedious.

"Fishing is fun." Miura sighed. "But catching is better."

"Fishing is a discipline in the equality of men; for all men are equal before fish." Hikigaya said, complacent.

"Boy, you've got nerves to talk about equality." She snapped. "Two to nine? Where's the equality in that?"

"I never said there would be equality. That's life, kiddo."

More often than not, people complain about inequality than injustice. There's a big difference between the two. When you think about it, do people deserve what they get? Perhaps they do. Perhaps they do not. He decided that while life is not always fair, it had to be just. What is justice? But another supposition, a concoction of society which draws the line between what is right or wrong.

Right or wrong is a metaphysical concept derived from social prejudice.

Life is a blank canvas. Society, culture, tradition paint it in a variety of hues and shades, drawing lines and colors of what is, what was, what should be. Take away that, a man on his own shall form his own assumptions and presumptions. Society is where man meets man, and finds out which of their assumptions and presumptions prove mutually agreeable.

"Oi, Hikio!" an irritated, impatient voice pulled him out of his train of thoughts.

But certainly, it was only fair and just that she had not caught nine fish, he noted to himself. A wicked notion, but this impertinent social monarch had to one way or another experience the guillotine of disappointment. "What's so funny?" it seemed that he had been giggling at his thought, noticeably.

"When you think about it, people and fish are alike." Miura raised a brow at his statement, green eyes implicitly curious. "They both get into trouble when they open their mouths."

She let out an unconvincing laugh, indignation apparent behind a façade of amusement. "Are you referring to a certain someone?" he simply shrugged, facing an annoyed blonde.

"You ought to practice what you preach!" she hissed at him. "Everytime you open that mouth of yours, shit comes out."

The cynic grinned, laughing. In a way, what would be considered insults to ordinary people had become a sort of sharp, honest mention of his antics. Certainly not on the level of a certain passive-aggressive ice queen, but this queen of fire was similar in a way. Vicious in criticism, not only did she not sugarcoat her words, there was no filter as well!

"But come on now. It's all fair and equal."

"Put yourself in my place, how would you feel if someone had more points than you?" it was a rhetorical question, to which he looked at her intently.

"Yeah, that's right. equality ain't so fun when it's fucking with you."

Indeed. Placing two people on equal grounds, equal opportunities. Yet you cannot expect both to gain an equal amount of profit. Both of them stood at the edge of the fenced promenade, angling for a catch, on the same grounds. It wasn't magic. Perhaps luck, but then she was just unlucky.

She had a razor sharp point. "Touché, Yumiko. Touché."

After looking over the gleaming orange-streaked wrasse, he freed it from the hook. "Let's go catch a bus home." He said, taking his fishing rod and putting it back in a barrel. She did the same. The two traipsed up the stone path, eager to go home.

She strode past him, leading the way. "Come on now, hurry up." He simply smiled, walking relaxedly. A contrast to her brisk pace, flowing with impatience and vigor. Her silken hair swayed to the wind, like a golden curtain. The way she walked, her lithe figure. Those emerald green eyes. Prestige and elegance.

Charm is that beauty in women- you can not say "no".

She who is charming can commit any crime. And in this case, it would be a grand theft of the heart. Had he been the same fool he was all those years ago, this blonde woman would have stolen his heart right there and then!

Alas, even his preconceptions were shattered. Looking back, it seemed that the myth he fondly held true was debunked. Even this darling woman, against all odds, was rejected. But how could it be? It seemed illogical. However, it is only so; human emotions, as a certain sensei taught him, were an incalculable factor. Calculation must stand on a logical foundation, and thus, the only logical explanation for this anomaly is the concept of the illogical.

But her? Her lips, so sweet, so soft. Her cheeks, fair and pink. And if you look into those eyes, you may find yourself lost in a field of green. A smile, so sweet.

One of the greatest deceptions. Like candy, delightfully sweet. Like candy, covered in plastic.

The greatest burden is knowledge. I could be wrong, and that is the hardest part.

Know. Love ends, as swiftly as it began. The lifespan of such a quixotic relationship is directly proportional to the amount of time it consumed in the process of creating it.

Thus, time is what gives meaning to relationships.

What is the worth?

Live

Love

Leave.

"People go fishing all their lives, not realizing it is not the fish they are after."

She looked at him. "You say something?" He lightly closed his eyelids, shaking his head slowly. But Miura had heard him clearly. This man, certainly cryptic, she thought to herself. If one would pay closer attention, it would seem that he was an old sage trapped in a young shell of a body. And pay closer attention, she did. They had been enjoying the presence of each other for quite some time now, a relationship that somehow managed to work out. She was a listener, so was He. But perhaps that is what made them both compatible. They listened to each other.

Atleast, that is what I wanted to believe.

It was difficult to understand him.

Fishing for answers.

She slid her hands into the pockets of her blue jacket. "What are we after?" And he looked back at her, dead black eyes that seemed to penetrate her physical and psychological being. In a way, it was intimidating. It was as if he could uncover her deepest secrets with a single glance. But he smiled, though it was one that did not reach the eyes. Faint, yet sincere?

Strangely, she felt like her secrets were safe with him. She felt comfortable, open and helpless like a delicate orchid. There were moments she did not need to present herself as a pharaoh of the social pyramid. So long as he was with her. Maybe, she could be just another girl.

Green met black, the two gazing at each other as they slowly walked. Everything seemed lucid, like a dream. "To be honest, I am not certain." In other words, you do not know, she inwardly corrected.

"Nobody knows what is going to happen next. Yet we all do it."

"It is difficult." She looked at him, smiling a bit. Perhaps a slight trace of sadness? "Having no one to share it with, I mean."

"Well, knowing more does mean having more shit to deal with." He said, in a worn-out tone.

But I want to know.

If I have to deal with your shit, so be it.

She wanted to uncover his secrets too.

/ooo