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Raika used to smile more.

Tomoyo still remembered the first one.

She'd been seven. Her mother had to bring her to work at the hospital, and Tomoyo had been told to sit quietly in the break room and not touch anything. She'd lasted maybe fifteen minutes before boredom made her wander through the halls, clutching her penguin book.

The room she'd stumbled into belonged to a girl with bandages wrapped around her arms and an IV drip attached to her hand. The girl looked up when Tomoyo peeked through the doorway, and instead of yelling or calling for a nurse, she just blinked those striking yellow eyes and asked what Tomoyo was holding.

"A book about penguins."

"Can I see it?" The girl tried lifting her hand but the IV tugged her back down. She winced, settling against the pillows again. "Actually, could you read it to me? I can't really hold things right now."

Tomoyo glanced down the hallway. Her mother would be looking for her soon. She should leave, apologize-

"Please?" The girl smiled.

Something in Tomoyo's chest cracked open.

She walked to the bedside chair and sat down, opening the book to the first page, where a penguin was offering a smooth pebble to another.

"Male penguins search for the perfect pebble to give their mate," Tomoyo read. "They'll spend days looking for it. Once they find the right one, they propose."

"Huh. That's kinda cute."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. Just... 'hey, I found this rock and thought of you." 

"What if the other penguin didn't like it?"

"Then they have terrible taste in rocks and you dodged a bullet." 

"But what if that's the only penguin you want to give it to?"

"Then you're screwed, I guess. Should've picked a penguin with better taste."

A pause.

"What's your name?" the girl asked.

"Tomoyo."

"Raika." She nudged the book toward her. "Now come on, keep going."

Tomoyo smiled despite herself and turned the page. Magellan penguins waddling across rocks, their black and white bodies against gray stone. Raika listened, occasionally pointing out things in pictures: that one's definitely got attitude, look at how fluffy that baby is, wonder if they get cold.

"Do you like penguins?" Tomoyo asked eventually.

"Never really thought about them before. I guess they're pretty cute. Better than dolphins, at least."

"What's wrong with dolphins?"

"Too smart for their own good. Creeps me out."

Tomoyo laughed, surprising even herself.

"You should do that more," Raika said with a grin that took up her whole face.

"What?"

"Laugh. Suits you better."

Tomoyo's face heated, but she kept reading.

By the time Tomoyo's mother found her, an hour had passed.

"You coming back tomorrow?" Raika asked, watching her carefully.

Tomoyo nodded, clutching the penguin book tighter.

Every day after school, she'd show up at the hospital with a different book or a drawing she made during class. Raika would light up when she walked through the door, and that expression alone made the trek worth it. The girl in the hospital bed depended on her visits, looked forward to them, and Tomoyo found herself arranging her entire schedule around those hours.

She memorized the way Raika's nose scrunched when she laughed. That shade of yellow in her eyes when sunlight hit them through the window. How she'd fidget with the IV tube when she got bored.

Every day Raika got stronger, until finally the bandages came off and she could hold the book herself. 

But when Raika recovered, something else disappeared.

The smiles stopped. By the time they ended up at the same high school a year ago, Raika acted like they were strangers who happened to share a past.

They still ate lunch together. Texted about nothing. Met at the aquarium when Tomoyo wanted to run away from all her problems. But in reality, Raika might as well have been standing on the other side of the penguin exhibit glass.

Sometimes Tomoyo caught glimpses of the hospital girl. Mostly though she just felt like she was talking to someone wearing Raika's face.

When did I stop knowing you? Tomoyo wondered, watching Raika's blood pool on the aquarium floor, mixing with her own. Or did I ever know you at all?

***

Tomoyo woke with her face pressed against something cold.

The floor. She was on her bedroom floor, one arm pinned beneath her rib. She blinked, trying to orient herself in the darkness, and found the edge of her bed frame right up her nose.

Had she fallen?

She pushed herself upright, rubbing at the sore spot on her cheek. Outside her window... the sky was black?

Tomoyo froze, staring at the void that seemed to swallow the buildings across the street. She pressed her palm against the window. The glass felt normal, but the sky looked wrong.

A faint blue glow illuminated her room from behind. She turned and found the source: a pelican eel floating near the ceiling, its translucent body lit up with bioluminescence. An umbilical cord stretched from its underside to her lower back, the connection point hidden beneath her shirt.

Tomoyo's stomach lurched. She touched her spine, felt the ridge of something foreign attached to her skin.

Huh-?!

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She grabbed it, desperate for something that made sense.

[the dishes are burning] - 1 new notification

The group chat. Her thumb moved automatically to swipe them away, but more messages appeared before she could.

Mika: three people got STABBED

Kuroko: where?

Mika: HERE! IN ADACHI!!

Kenji: mika ur so full of shit lmao

Tomoyo stared at the screen. Something about the messages felt off. The words themselves were normal enough - Mika always texted in all caps when she got worked up about something - but there was a something familiar about them.

Had Mika mentioned this yesterday? No, that didn't make sense. Yesterday had been Wednesday, and the group chat had been dead all day except for Kenji complaining about his part-time job.

Tomoyo's fingers hovered over the keyboard. She should type something, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she opened a new tab and searched.

adachi murders

The results loaded.

Three Dead in Suspected Serial Killing Across Adachi Ward.

She clicked through, scanning past warnings about ongoing investigations. First victim near Umejima Station, second in a residential area close to Ayase, third-

Two blocks from her school.

Her phone buzzed.

Kenji: yo school still on btw

Mika: WAT

Kuroko: r u serious

Tomoyo typed and deleted variations of the same useless sentiment. You're joking became No way before she gave up entirely and just stared at the screen while her friends continued their back-and-forth.

The eel had drifted closer to the window now, pressing its body against the glass as if trying to look at the black void beyond.

She watched it for a moment, then forced herself to look away. Her gaze landed on the penguin plushie sitting on her desk, the one Raika had won for her at a crane game two months ago after Tomoyo's seventeen failed attempts and way too much money. 

Would it make you happy if you got it? Raika had said. The question caught Tomoyo off guard, but she nodded anyway. Raika shouldered her aside. Then let me.

She pulled up their message thread again.

still on for the aquarium later this week?

raika?

raika, please get back to me as soon as you can. i'm worried

Monday. She sent the first one on Monday and now it was Thursday morning with nothing but radio silence. 

The article hadn't listed names. Victims' families were still being notified, the police said. Could be anyone. Could be three strangers Tomoyo would never meet.

Could be-

A knock rattled her door.

"Tomo-chan? You're going to be late if you don't get up now."

The eel flattened itself against the ceiling, its body dimming.

"I-yeah. Coming."

Tomoyo pushed herself off the floor, but the room tilted the moment she stood. She grabbed the mattress edge, waiting for the spinning to stop. She could feel her empty stomach. When was the last time she ate? Dinner last night, maybe. She couldn't remember.

Her gaze dropped to the umbilical cord connecting her to the eel. Maybe it's taking nutrients from her? That would explain the hunger.

Don't think about it.

Tomoyo took a step toward the door. Her hip caught the edge of her desk, sending the penguin plushie tumbling to the floor. It landed face-down, one flipper bent at an awkward angle.

She stared at it for a moment, then crouched to pick it up. She brushed dust off its head and readjusted the flippers to exactly how they'd been when Raika first handed it to her, then set it back in place. Raika always said she was weird about the penguin. It's a toy, Tomo-chan. It doesn't have feelings.

But Raika won it for her, which meant it does.

The hallway stretched ahead of her, darker than it should've been even with the blackened sky outside. She leaned against the wall, letting the cool surface clear the dizziness from her head. The eel followed behind, the cord dragging across the floor with a wet sound.

Something smelled good. 

The scent drifted from the living room, warm in a way that made Tomoyo's stomach growl. Ochazuke, maybe. Her mother must've woken up early to cook breakfast.

She pushed off the wall and walked toward the kitchen, leaving the bathroom door closed behind her.