Shot Composition is Secondary to Emotion

The late afternoon sun filtered through the clumps of clouds coarsely spread through the sky, which warmed up the park I was sitting in.

I was on one of the park’s many benches, this one being under the canopy of a large oak tree, which spread itself over a pretty big area.

I could feel the bags beneath my eyes weighing them down, and rubbing them did absolutely nothing to help. Eye bags are the worst.

My camera rested on the table in front of me, and my reflection was still visible in the lens. Did I really leave the house like this?

My hair was terrible, it’s hard to say “without style” but it sure looked like the opposite of prim and proper, or even presentable. I tried fixing it with my hands, combing around the many loose strands. Nothing seemed to work.

Not like it’s the most important thing in the world. It’s just hair. I exhaled in defeat, and put my hands back in my pockets. Back to observing.

By sheer coincidence, something happened.

A small, off-white rabbit hopped from the tree line and into the sunlight. Its fur glistened in the sunlight, while its dark eyes pulled all other colors together into a simple palette. It’s what I was looking for.

Slowly, I reached for my camera and adjusted the settings.

ISO: 200

F-Stop: f/5

Shutter Speed: 1/500

The silky texture of the fur, especially around the ears, added depth. The shaded shrubs and their muted greens set the backdrop nicely.

I further focused the camera, centering on the rabbit.

Click.

Let’s hope this one–

The rabbit moved the instant I pressed the shutter. The photo was ruined.

What I wanted to be a nice, serene moment, turned into a jumbled mess of blur and composition. Why couldn’t it have stayed still for just a moment longer?

Looking back through the lens, I hoped to capture one more photo. No rabbit. It must’ve had places to be.

A small amount of frustration escaped as I exhaled. I deleted the photo without any second thoughts.

You can’t rely on anything living to stay still for the perfect shot, and you can’t ruin the moment by telling them to.

Things are always brighter looking back. The present is always a confusing blur of emotions, but the past is like a reflection through clear glass.

One that can never be wrong.

I placed the lens cover on the camera, then slid it back into its bag. Grabbing my school bag on one shoulder, and camera bag on the other, I decided it was time to leave.

I slid off the worn wooden bench and back to my feet, then headed home for the night.

…

My apartment, to no surprise, was completely empty. It’s weird to call somewhere so vacant home, especially since there’s barely any signs that I've been living there at all.

Convenience store noodles and water was my dinner, which happened to be my specialty. As I sat alone at my dining room table, eating my food, I got to thinking…

What about this place do I like?

Was it the silence the place brought? Was there any comfort in that at all?

I couldn’t really find an answer, it didn’t feel like I was really looking for one anyway.

Times like these catch me off guard, and I get caught thinking about things that I try not to…

… Like, how lively would this place be if they were here?

I bet it wouldn’t look all too different, maybe a few more furnishings and appliances. Maybe some more food in the fridge, or messes to clean up. But it wouldn’t really look different.

It would feel different, though.

The TV in the living room was something I’d rarely turn on, there was no need after all. It stayed off most of the time, and right now was no different. I could see the distorted night sky reflecting off it, almost like a channel.

I chuckled softly.

Yeah, maybe in some other timeline we’d all be here.

But they made their decision a long time ago, and I made mine. I wonder if they think these thoughts too.

I blinked slowly, and washed away those thoughts.

Probably not. That’s why you’re still living there, and I’m over here.

No use thinking about it any more.

I washed my plate, and threw out the remainder. There was quite a bit left, which slightly shocked me.

Usually I eat a full cup.

I stared at the empty container for a moment.

I guess I wasn’t that hungry.

After I turned the sink off, the apartment went silent again.

Just like it always was.

*

The day before the showcase arrived slowly, like it dragged its feet all the way to the present. I thought days like that would come faster.

I was slowly gathering my notebooks and pencils from my desk, packing them into my bag without any real urgency. Well, no urgency compared to everyone else.

All of my classmates frantically shoved and jammed their things into their bags in a haze. I smirked.

If the showcase was really important, everything would’ve been done by now.

The halls were packed with people, each moving their own versions of ‘fast’. Some people carried print-outs, others had decorations or posters. I could feel the stress and tension in the air.

Idle conversations, last minute panic… yep, I know what this feels like.

The determination to be seen.

Lockers slammed open and closed somewhere far off, but their clanging echoed everywhere. It cut off most lingering conversations.

Some windows let in warm light from outside into the hallway, the shadows never really staying in the same spot. The usually-negligible hallway, which was still gray, stood out to contrast the glowing world beyond the window.

I felt myself stopping. Maybe to absorb the scenery, or to take a picture.

“Why don’t you pick something real?”

Yeah, no need to remind me.

I made it to the library, but stayed outside the door. Muffled conversations and clattered footsteps behind the door made me question if I should go in. Because if I go in, then I’d have to help.

“Where is Kurosawa-san anyway? Shouldn’t he be here by now?”

SLIDE.

Hayashi-san opened the door, just as I reached for the handle.

“Hey.” She said, standing in the doorway.

“...Hey.” I replied.

Neither of us moved, and our eyes stayed locked at each other. My eyes started to drift first, which moved to her hair.

Her usually neat, and well kept hair is all over the place. Some strands covered parts of her face, others flying with the air flow.

I felt myself being absorbed into the scene.

“Glad you decided to show, Kuro-san!”

Yamamoto-senpai walked up and interrupted… whatever was happening by tossing a nearly-full box of books in my general direction.

They fell just behind Hayashi-san, but slid the rest of the way to me.

“I never said you could call me that.” I replied, bending to grab the box.

CRACK.

The box weighed as much as a person! How the hell am I supposed to grab this when it almost folded me in half?!?!

“We’re livening this place up!” he added, completely ignoring me. What an upperclassman.

I took a good look around, trying to see what ‘livening’ they did. Books were strewn everywhere, covering what seemed to be most of the floor. It looked more like a storage room trying to become literate than a library.

Yamamoto and Nishimura-senpai continued to re-arrange everything, which meant sorting books and creating catchy displays to attract attention.

Then I saw it.

A large sign, draped above the main desk, with black ink scratched across it.

SIGN UP HERE!!!!

There’s enough glitter plastered on there to put a disco-ball to shame.

Before I could take the scenery in (if you could even call it that), Yamamoto-senpai started talking again.

“We divided the clubroom into three sections.”

He then gestured vaguely to the right side of the room.

“This side is the pull. Hayashi-san said she’d work there.”

“I said you could call me Tsukmiki-san, you know.”

“Right. Tsumiki-san said she’d work there.”

When they get so close? Well, whatever. Not like it’s my business anyway.

He redirected his finger to the central part of the room, then shifted his focus to me. Gulp.

“This is the sink. It’ll be where you do your thing.”

“What exactly is my ‘thing’, Yamamoto-senpai?” I asked.

Pushing up his imaginary glasses to the bridge of his nose, he switched from a soft smile to a smug grin.

“You’re going to talk about books you’ve read, and relate to whoever might come in.”

“It’s whomever, Dai-chan.” Nishimura-senpai corrected.

“Sure it is.” He shot back, without missing a beat.

I took a long look at my table and chair, which was basically my old seat only shifted to face the door. With a deep breath, I let a long sigh out.

“Over here we have the sinker, which is–”

“Isn’t this all a bit excessive?”

I interrupted him, which created an awkward silence.

“Excessive? We’re just trying to get people in the door, Kuro-chan.”

I squinted my eyes the tiniest amount, like I was confirming this was all real.

“People that want to read will walk in anyway.” My response was nothing but dry.

The stacking awkward pauses blended together, and now the atmosphere in the room was completely off. I knew most of it was because of me.

“Can you girls argue about personal philosophies after we get the books moved?” Nishimura joked, but her intentions still came off the same.

Yamamoto-senpai nodded, then dropped the whole conversation like that.

I slid the heavy box of books to my ‘station’, then somehow lifted it onto the table.

THUD.

A small puff of dust floated off the top.

For some reason, I couldn’t shake the conversation. I mean, why should I care about recruiting people? I only stayed here because I wanted to do nothing.

I grabbed one of the books from the box and flipped through it without much thought.

“Ideal and the Real? I thought we wanted to recruit people, not break their brains.” I muttered sarcastically.

“It builds character.” Apparently Yamamoto-senpai heard me.

Hayashi-san laughed from across the room while still organizing papers.

I didn’t get what was funny about that. You start easy, then work up to more difficult things.

Looking back at my box, I realized something.

Thick spines. Long titles. Colorless covers. None of them would be books you pick out of curiosity. So, I made the executive choice and dropped the box back on the floor. It wasn’t worth my time, anyway.

I grabbed three books before closing the top for good.

“Hey wha– I picked those books!”

He looked like he was gonna get angry.

“But I’m the one sitting here.” Might as well poke the bear.

Nishimura-senpai leaned in from the main desk out of curiosity.

“What’s going on here, a Catfight?”

To prove my point, I reached into the box and grabbed a book at random. The one I ended up grabbing was a pale blue color, with an extremely thick spine. Both covers were aged and worn down, but still holding together, somehow. Curious, I read the title.

Ideological Pretenses from a Diorgenic Retortal Standpoint - Maki Igarashi

Perfect.

Yamamoto-senpai inspected the book for a long time. He must’ve been stuck on the title.

This isn’t the type of book to be understood at a glance.

He turned to Nishimura-senpai with a weird-looking pouty face, but she ended up laughing at him. Pretty hard, I might add.

“If this is the first thing someone sees when they walk in, they’re immediately leaving.” She added through her laughter.

Yamamoto-senpai refused to look back at the book on my desk. Looks like I won again. Not like he could understand the words separately.

“That book is important.” He continued, still not facing the book. It was like watching a child try to ignore something they wanted to look at.

“It can be important where nobody sees it.” I added, sliding the book closer to him.

“...you’re calling my selection bad.”

I stayed quiet. I mean, I thought that much was obvious. He then gestured at the table, without looking.

“What would you put there?” He asked me.

I looked at the books he’d selected. None of them really looked like anything special, so I searched the room for any alternatives. But, for some reason, I found myself looking right out the open door.

“...I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Nishimura-senpai shouted. She wasn’t even involved.

I shrugged.

“You guys are confusing to me. I don’t get it. More people think like you, so you choose.”

I nudged the book even closer to Yamamoto-senpai.

“What you read, and do, never make any sense to me.” I added.

He finally looked back, but not at the books. He looked right at me. His piercing gaze shot right through me, and I could see my life flashing before my eyes. Then his face grew more confused.

“That might be the weirdest insult I’ve ever heard.” He said, scratching his shaved head.

After that, the room quietly started to move again, and the odd atmosphere was all but gone. Yamamoto-senpai and Nishimura-senpai resumed cleaning up the books. All while Hayashi-san observed from her ‘station’ (if you could call it that).

She walked over to my table, probably out of curiosity. When she got here, she tilted her head sideways to read the titles of the books I’d picked out. Why not just pick them up and read the cover?

Her finger lifted, and singled out a newer looking book from the three. The title felt oddly familiar.

Photomorphogenesis v. Skotomorphogenesis.

I tried remembering where I saw it before.

“I thought you were against intimidating titles?” she prodded. “This one looks brand new.”

I grabbed the book, and could feel the freshly-laminated cover slide across my fingertips. Yep, it was new.

“I don’t understand either.”

I handed the book to her, and she looked at me completely confused.

“Don’t overthink it. I didn’t realize I got it, and it’s useless to me.”

Weird. I don’t remember getting that book from the box. I must’ve really not been looking.

She took the book from my hands, but I could still feel it in mine. This odd sensation of unchangingness wasn’t something I wanted.

Her eyes glossed over the cover a few more times before looking back at me.

“... Still,” She whispered.

“It suits you.”

At that moment, I could feel it. A single, resounding beat from my heart. Maybe she heard it.

Maybe she didn’t.