Chapter 17 – “A Day Without Scripts”

“Wait. We’re going where?”

“Inside,” Usagi said, holding open the glass door like this was something she did every day.

I glanced up at the sign.

“Palette & Mugs – DIY Art Café”

Inside, there were pastel walls, soft jazz music, and shelves lined with little white ceramic animals. A group of middle schoolers sat in the corner painting cats. A couple sat near the window, whispering over tea and unfinished mugs.

“Why are we here?” I asked again.

Usagi tilted her head. “Because it’s fun?”

“That’s not an answer. We just got out of school.”

“Exactly,” she said, stepping inside without waiting. “No scripts today.”

We ended up at a small table near the back. The shop owner gave us each a ceramic to paint. The choices were oddly specific: a donut, a frog, a spaceship, and a turtle.

I picked the turtle, Don’t ask why.

Usagi picked a rabbit, Obviously.

She sat across from me, gently dipping her brush into pale blue paint. Her bangs fell slightly over her eyes as she focused.

“You know,” she said, “you choosing the turtle is very on brand.”

“What does that even mean?”

You move slow, hide in your shell, and you panic when someone tries to decorate you.”

“…That’s not even close to a real trait.”

She smiled. “That’s what makes it true.”

I started painting the shell green.

She leaned closer. “You missed a spot.”

“It’s intentional, It’s a battle scar.”

“Oh, I see. The brave warrior turtle.”
She tilted her head. “Do you ever want to be something else?”

“Like… another animal?”

“No. Like someone who doesn’t second guess himself every five minutes.”

I looked at her, but she wasn’t teasing. Just quietly brushing gold on the rabbit’s ears.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Would I still be me?”

“And you?” I continune. looking at her rabbit, which now had a crown, heart shaped cheeks, and tiny gold stars on its ears.

She didn’t answer right away.
Then:
“I think… sometimes we’re more ourselves when no one’s watching.”

“That’s deep.”

“That’s mildly concerning.”

We both laughed.

After the café, we walked a few blocks under a sky that was just starting to turn orange.

Then we arrived.

At the aquarium.

“Seriously?” I asked. “You planned this whole day?”

“Nope,” she said. “I just knew I didn’t want to go home yet.”

The moment we stepped inside, everything went quiet.

It wasn’t silent, exactly. You could still hear the sound of the tanks, the soft footsteps of visitors, the occasional gasp from a kid who saw something with teeth.
We passed a tank of clownfish. She stopped and tapped the glass gently.

“They always look like they’re pretending to smile,” she said.

“They are fish,” I replied.

She grinned. “So are we. In a bigger tank.”

“That makes no sense.”

She walked on.

In the jellyfish room, the lights were dim and blue.

Usagi stood with her hands behind her back, watching them float like little ghosts.

“They swim like they’re dreaming,” she said, almost too softly.

I stared at her instead of the jellyfish. “You’ve been really poetic today.”

“Mm.”

“I can’t tell if this is your real self or your artist self.”

“…What if it’s both?”

I didn’t have an answer.

In the underwater tunnel, the light surrounded us in every shade of ocean blue. A shark passed overhead. Kids pressed their faces to the glass ahead of us. Behind, a family argued about which exit led to the gift shop.

We stood in the middle.

Not talking.

Just watching.

Until she broke the silence.

“When I’m like this,” Usagi said, “I wonder if I’m allowed to just… stay.”

“…Stay?”

“Like this, Here, With you.”

I turned to her. Her face was unreadable, but not distant.

“What’s stopping you?”

She looked at her reflection in the glass.

"Nothing... today.”

We left as the sun was going down, The sky was cotton candy and fading gold. We didn’t talk much after that.

At the train station, she turned to me.

“No costumes tomorrow,” she said. “But you should rehearse anyway.”

“Why?”

She smiled. “You’ll see.”

And with that, she left.

When I got home, I found something in my bag.

A polaroid.

It was the two of us at the café, Me holding my turtle. Her holding her rabbit like a proud parent.

And behind the photo, a ticket from the aquarium.

There was something written on the back.

Today wasn’t in the script.
But it might be my favorite scene.

No name.

But I didn’t need one.

I just sat there a long time.

And smiled.

Yuuji’s Mental Diary – Entry #18

I think she wanted to give me peace, Or maybe just one good memory.

Whoever she was today… I wanted to see her again.