BIG FISHES, rizuna ann

CHAPTER TWO

Saki didn't know much about fishes. It was actually her mother's job to care about them, keep her eye on the little ones, as she explained to her the first time she had the opportunity to meet the ocean from afar.

The oceans make up about 71% of the surface of the earth, but she knew her mom never explored half of it, she knew she never let her toes touch the wet sand and she never walked along the seashores. Saki grew up wishing the marine life would somehow swim to meet her mom's fingers once again, but it didn't work like that, and sooner than later all prayers stopped.

"Time's running faster and we haven't heard a sound yet," Kuina mumbled, "I wonder why everyone is so quiet."

"They're waiting," Saki answered.

It was obvious. However, there were many reasons to answer the what. Maybe they were waiting for someone to make a mistake, step the stick, be too suspicious to be considered the target; maybe they were waiting for her collar to light up; maybe they were waiting for anyone to finally sink in their own desperation to live.

Oftentimes, different fish species playing nice in a public aquarium display tank can be helpful in determining whether they’re likely to get along in a home aquarium or not. The size of the exhibit is more important than one could think, that is because both heterospecific and conspecific aggression tends to become more intensified as tank size diminishes.

People were like fishes. Eventually, even if the time hasn't passed the thirty minutes of safe hiding, they'll start hunting down whoever dares get in their way out of that game.

Kuina sighed a few feet away from her.

"It seems like this game will be more stressful than others, huh?"

"They're all the same for me," Saki shared, touching the penguin prototypes displayed over a fake piece of ice simulating how their lives are. She wondered if they were all inside their own fake piece of earth too. "I haven't seen a penguin in my life," Kuina looked at her curiously, "But I once heard they're just birds wearing tuxedos."

Kuina snorted at her words.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she smiled, but before she could say anything else a loud scream traveled the way down to the penguin area they were in.

Saki gave the direction the female shrieking voice had come her back. The emperor penguin watched them grow alert for any new sign of danger.

"The show's starting," Saki said, "It was a matter of time."

Was that what human existence was after all? Was that their purpose? Being trapped in an empty city, hoping every day that the value of their hearts would not be too high to pay for? Saki wanted to keep hers, she wasn't paying anything to anyone to keep her heart beating inside her chest, she wasn't ready to bleed yet. Perhaps that was her purpose, the reason why she didn't give up when she had the chance in the first place.

Saki could've turned around and let herself die. She could've told Kuina to do it, to win the game and drag her body out to the earth. However, she didn't.

And as she stood in place, consumed by her mind, she knew everything was about to get worse. In the end, time was too vital even in a world like that.

The warmth of the light switching on of her collar met her skin in an instant.

THE WHALE'S COLLAR HAS LIT UP. . .
THIRTY MINUTES LEFT BEFORE TIME LIMIT. . .

It isn't fair. Saki felt Kuina's eyes being drawn at the green halo illuminating her face. It's terrifying, disorienting, and not fair at all.