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"You look terrible."

Before Tomoyo could apologize, Kuroko raised a hand.

"Wait. Actually, I should say sorry first." Kuroko pushed through the turnstile. "About that rule I made the other day."

Tomoyo followed, the eel's cord dragging behind her. "Rule?"

"About not mentioning Raika's name." Kuroko said. She crouched before the vending machine beneath the station's fluorescent lights, fishing coins from the change slot. "I thought maybe I cursed things by saying it."

"You didn't curse anything."

"Yeah, well." Kuroko's fingers scraped the bottom of the coin slot and came up empty. She stared at her hand for a moment.

"Guess those lucky numbers weren't so lucky today." She tsked. She dug into her blazer pocket instead, producing a single High-Chew, the wrapper crinkling between her fingers. Grape flavor. 

"Here."

Tomoyo stared at the offered candy. "Are you sure?"

"Let me apologize properly." Kuroko pressed the candy in Tomoyo's palm, closing her fingers around it.

Tomoyo unwrapped it and placed the candy on her tongue. The artificial grape taste flooded her mouth - too sweet, too chemically. She wanted to spit it out. Instead, she chewed slowly, forcing herself to swallow her guilt.

The train's arrival chime rang through the platform. Kuroko grabbed Tomoyo's wrist and pulled her into a wall of bodies. The eel floated above the crowd, looking at them.

Why was it examining the passengers?

Tomoyo's phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket. She fished it out with trembling fingers. The message was from Raika:

Come to the aquarium. Now.

Three days of silence, and now this.

"Sorry." The word left her mouth before thought could catch up. She shoved past Kuroko, past the commuters and toward the transfer sign for the Takenozuka line.

"Wait, Tomo-chan!"

But she didn't wait. Couldn't wait. Raika's message burned in her palm, and nothing else mattered.

***

The penguin exhibit was empty. Ringo stood on his rock, beak closed, watching her with one black eye. No Raika.

Tomoyo moved to the spotted eel tank. The creatures wound through artificial reefs, oblivious. No Raika.

The tropical fish section. The shark tunnel. The touch pool where children shrieked and splashed. No Raika.

Why would she do this? Text her to come immediately, then disappear?

Raika wouldn't do something like this without reason. She wouldn't. There had to be an explanation.

Tomoyo turned a corner and nearly collided with a ladder.

"Ah-"

A woman in an apron stood three rungs up, holding a bucket. Her hair was dark at the roots, fading to rust orange at the tips, pushed behind her ears. Her amber eyes glanced down

"Sorry, I-"

"It's fine." The woman's voice was rough but not unkind. She turned back to the tank above her, reaching in to scatter food across the water surface. Moon jellyfish drifted through the pale blue glow, their translucent bodies pulsing as they moved toward the offering.

Tomoyo recognized her. She'd seen this woman a few times during visits with Raika, always moving between tanks to feed their residence.

"Have you seen someone?" The words tumbled out before Tomoyo could stop them. "Brown hair, yellow eyes. she's usually in a black jacket with white sleeves."

"Oh, you mean Raika-chan? Can't say I've seen her today, sorry."

"You know Raika?"

"Sure. She comes here pretty often."

Often?

The woman started descending the ladder, a bucket swinging from one hand. When she reached the bottom, she glanced back up at Tomoyo, studying her face again.

"You alright, kid?"

"I'm fine."

"Tell you what." The woman held out a plastic cup. Orange liquid sloshed inside. "Want to help feed the jellies? Might take your mind off things."

Tomoyo wanted to refuse. She needed to keep searching, but the staff here had always been kind. She watched them care for Ringo and let her and Raika linger past closing time. Saying no felt like throwing that kindness back in their faces.

So she took the cup. Brine shrimp swirled in the water, their tiny bodies creating that orange tint. She'd taught that to Raika once, when they first visited together after Raika's release from the hospital. Raika had stared at the cup, confused, asking why the water looked like that, and Tomoyo had explained about the shrimp, feeling useful again.

I knew that, Raika had said.

Tomoyo had waited for the smile. It never came.

Tomoyo climbed, gripping each rung with her free hand while the eel's cord trailed behind her. At the top, she leaned over the tank's edge. The moon jellyfish pulsed below.

She tilted the cup, brine shrimp descending into the water. The jellyfish gathered, their bodies expanding and contracting, drawing the food toward them.

Another memory surfaced as Tomoyo watched. Raika standing beside this same tank, asking if the jellyfish had names.

…I'm not sure, Tomoyo had said.

She looked down at the woman. "Do they have names?"

The woman blinked, clearly not expecting the question. She scratched behind her ear.

"They don't live that long, so we cycle through them pretty fast. Naming them would be kinda..."

She trailed off, but Tomoyo understood.

Pointless. Naming something that wouldn't last was pointless.

Tomoyo descended the ladder. The eel's cord slithered behind her, coiling across the metal rungs.

"Thanks for the help," the woman said, taking the empty cup from Tomoyo's hand.

"It's nothing." Tomoyo turned toward the exit.

"Hey." The woman's voice stopped her. "Don't stress too much. I'm sure your friend is fine."

Fine. Raika wasn't fine. Raika had been silent for three days, then sent a single cryptic message, and this woman knew nothing about any of it.

But Tomoyo smiled. "Yeah. Thanks."

She took a step toward the corridor then stopped. Someone stood on the opposite side of the moon jellyfish tank, visible through the glass, water, and jellies. A girl in all white, shirt, pants, even her hair. The silver strands fell past her shoulders, catching the tank's blue glow that made it seem like they're emitting their own light.

The moon jellyfish pulsed around her. The girl wore the same colors as them, as if she'd stepped out of the tank itself.

Tomoyo stepped closer, her reflection distorting across the curved glass. That's when she saw the hands. Dark and wet, blood covering her pale fingers, dripping slowly onto the floor.

She opened her mouth to ask if she needed help, when the girl's head turned, their eyes meeting through the tank.

Then something erupted from the girl's back. A long, sharp spear exploded through the glass in a burst of water and jellyfish, heading straight toward her. It punched through her flesh and clothes and kept going.

Tomoyo's last thought, as everything went dark, was that she never found Raika.