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The living room opened up ahead, brighter than the hallway but still dim in a way that made Tomoyo's eye strain. The darkness clung to the edges of everything, pooling in corners where morning light should've been streaming through.

Her mother stood at the kitchen counter with her back turned, stirring something in a pot. Steam rose, carrying the scent of green tea and fish.

"Oh, you're finally up, Tomo-chan?"

"Yeah."

"Good timing. I'm making ochazuke. What topping do you want?"

Tomoyo opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. The eel floated behind her, its translucent body pulsing.

Her mother was going to see it. She was going to turn around and see this thing attached to her daughter's spine and-

"Tomo-chan? Which topping?" Her mother glanced over her shoulder, wooden spoon in hand. "I know you're picky with these things depending on your mood."

Tomoyo's gaze darted to the eel, then back to her mother's face.

Her mother wasn't looking at it. She was looking at Tomoyo, waiting for an answer.

The eel drifted closer to the ceiling. The cord tugged at Tomoyo's spine, something that should've been visible, but her mother just stood there waiting.

"Nori," Tomoyo said.

Her mother paused mid-stir, then smiled. "Nori it is."

Tomoyo didn't know why she'd asked for it. She'd tried nori ochazuke once years ago. Hadn't liked it, either. It'd just tasted like salt, and she'd thought any other topping would've done better. So why'd she ask for it now?

Her mother placed a bowl in front of her minutes later. Heat shimmered off the rice, the dashi broth soaking through in that perfect way. Strips of seaweed sat on top, glistening with oil.

"You look pale." Her mother leaned over, studying her face. "Is it your period again?"

"Yeah." The lie came easily. "I've been taking iron supplements though."

In reality, she stopped taking them weeks ago, convinced they weren't doing anything. The bottle still sat in her desk drawer, untouched.

Tomoyo brought a spoonful of rice to her mouth. The broth was hot, and the taste was exactly what ochazuke should be: comforting.

Except it wasn't.

She swallowed and tried again, but the warmth that usually settled in her chest didn't come. The food tasted wrong, like eating someone else's favorite meal and pretending it was hers.

Tomoyo forced herself to keep eating.

Her mother said something about the weather, but Tomoyo's attention stayed on the eel. It floated closer to her mother's shoulder now, close enough that if it was real, if it existed the way Tomoyo existed, her mother would've had a panic attack.

But she didn't.

Tomoyo finished the last spoonful and stood, bowl in hand.

"I should get ready for school."

"Already?" Her mother glanced at the clock. "You've got time."

"I know, I just- I want to check something."

She didn't wait for a response. The eel followed her down the hallway, its cord dragging behind her as she slipped into her bedroom and shut the door.

The window. She needed to see the window.

Tomoyo crossed the room and pulled back the curtain. Sure enough, the sky was gone. 

A million thoughts blurred past, but then one thought cut through the rest: the eel had been lighting her way.

Tomoyo turned. The creature floated near her ceiling, its bioluminescent body casting light around her. Without it, she'd be standing in complete darkness right now, wouldn't she?

She grabbed her school uniform from the chair and started dressing. The cord hung from her spine, swaying as she pulled on her shirt. She angled her body to avoid it, putting her arms through the sleeves while keeping her body perfectly still.

Her phone buzzed. Then again. Tomoyo snatched it from her desk.

Kuroko: u coming?

Kuroko: usual spot

Kuroko: im already here

Kuroko: tomomomomomo

Tomoyo typed back quickly. yes sorry be there soon

She checked the time. The screen showed numbers, but they didn't register, same as this morning. She couldn't tell if it was early or late or if she already missed the train.

Tomoyo shoved her phone in her pocket and grabbed her bag.

"I'm heading out!" she called out, shutting the door behind her.

***

The first thing she confirmed was the sky.

Gone.

The second thing was the eel's light, which illuminated the balcony railing, the concrete floor, and the potted plants her neighbor kept outside their door. Beyond that three meter radius, nothing existed.

Tomoyo descended the stairs, gripping the railing tighter than necessary. The eel followed, its cord dragging along the floor with that wet sound again.

At the bottom, she turned left and headed for the station. The streets were there. She could feel the pavement beneath her shoes, could hear the distant rumble of a train approaching, but she couldn't see them. Tomoyo kept walking anyway.

She eventually saw Kuroko standing beneath the station awning, her choppy black hair catching the station's light unevenly. Red eyes tracked Tomoyo's approach.

"Sorry I'm late," Tomoyo said.

Kuroko pushed off the wall, waving a hand. "Don't worry about it."

They passed through the turnstiles together, the eel's cord scraping against the metal barrier as Tomoyo squeezed through. She glanced back at Kuroko, but Kuroko's eyes didn't seem to follow the eel at all. 

The platform stretched ahead, lit by fluorescent lights that hummed overhead. Kuroko led them to the vending machines, their bright displays cutting through the dullness of rush hour.

"You look terrible."

Tomoyo opened her mouth to apologize, but Kuroko beat her to it.

"Sorry." The words came out flat. "About the rule."

"Rule?"

"About not mentioning Raika." Kuroko stared at the vending machine's selection screen. "I felt bad about it. Like I cursed it or something."

Before Tomoyo could respond, Kuroko crouched down and fished change from the return slot, her face brightening. She then fed the coins into the machine and punched a button. A can clattered down.

Kuroko's face went serious again as she straightened. "How'd you meet Raika anyway?"

Tomoyo blinked. "What?"

"Just curious." Kuroko popped open the can, took a sip. "You've never really said."

The question felt wrong. Kuroko had been there when Tomoyo first introduced Raika to their friend group. Kuroko had watched them sit together at lunch, had seen Raika show up at the aquarium that one time, had rolled her eyes when Tomoyo talked about her. What made her ask now? But the thought of Raika pushed everything else aside.

"We met at a hospital."

"What were you in for?"

"Not me, Raika. She had me read her a book about penguins."

Something warm spread through her chest as she said it. Raika had been sick, confined to a hospital bed, and Tomoyo had been the one to comfort her. Not her parents, not the nurses. Just her.

Kuroko took another sip from her can, her expression unchanged.

"Sounds like a good memory."

"Yeah." Tomoyo's hands clenched around her bag strap. "It was."

Kuroko crumpled the empty can and tossed it in the recycling bin. Then she dug into her pocket and pulled out a wrapped candy.

A High-Chew.

She held it out. Tomoyo stared at the offering. High-Chews were precious to Kuroko. She'd buy them in bulk from the convenience store and rationed them throughout the week, never really sharing them.

"Are you sure?"

"Looks like you needed it. Plus, I need to apologize somehow."

Tomoyo unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth. The artificial grape taste flooded her tongue, too sweet and chemically. She didn't particularly like grape High-Chews, but she wasn't going to spit out Kuroko's gift either.

The train pulled into the station with a mechanical groan.

Doors slid open. Bodies pressed forward. Kuroko grabbed Tomoyo's sleeve and dragged her into the crowd, and they squeezed through the opening just as the doors began to close. The train lurched forward and Tomoyo stumbled, catching herself on the overhead rail.

The eel floated beside her, cord swaying with the train. Then it started looking around, taking in the passengers crammed into the car: a businesswoman, a student with headphones, an elderly man clutching his briefcase.

The eel's gaze lingered on each of them, but no one reacted. No one flinched or stared or pointed. The creature was invisible to everyone except her.

But why was it looking at them?

Suddenly, her phone buzzed. Tomoyo pulled it from her pocket.

Raika: Come to the aquarium. Now.