31 ☆ ( "I FAILED YOU, SATO." )

"So, Sato," It was the end of January. The second round of entrance exams is in a few days, and our Teachers have started doing their last check-ins with their students. Like it was during the summer, I remained stoic, fiddling with my fingers and allowing my legs to sprawl just slightly. Teacher Fujii wasn't amused, but I think with a sense of nostalgia, he was relieved that I didn't show up in bandages and a sprained ankle. "Have you decided where you want to go to university yet?"

I shook my head. Teacher Fujii frowned. "But university-specific exams are coming up, and your almost-perfect score can get you just about anywhere. Have you picked a career?"

That was the one thing I was sure of. "I did."

"Oh?" Teacher Fujii tilted his head, a soft smile on his face. "What do you want to be then, Sato?"

"I want to be like you, Teacher," I swallowed, lifting my head. "I want to be a teacher."

He blinked a few times. His smile faded. "A teacher, huh?" Teacher Fujii felt out the sound of it, licking his lips as he searched for a different expression on my face. When he realized I meant it, he chuckled slightly, a smile rising again. "I can see you as one, Sato. I think you'd make a great teacher, no matter what level you teach. Do you have any specific topics that you want to master?"

"No. I'm going into this blind and discovering what I'll master on the way," I explained. "I don't know what university I want to go to, but I know one thing for sure, Teacher–I want to be far away, so far away, where not even a person would willingly drive over. I don't want friends and family visiting me by train either, and not a flight. I want to be stationed in Japan; it's just not accessible."

Then, I added, "Not even by Riki."

"You don't mean that, do you?" I didn't respond. He sighed. "I didn't think you were serious. Why are you attempting to isolate yourself from everything you know and love? Don't you want to at least be with Aoki or Kim?"

Then, he added, "I'm sure Kim would like to be with you. Right?"

"That's not true. Even if they wanted to be with me, I wanted to start anew. Something about being in Okayama and having them know my life like the back of their hands–the one thing I wanted to suppress until the day I die–it doesn't sit right in my stomach," I replied hastily, shaking my head. "I need to be alone and find myself. With them, there's no chance that I'll succeed. I'll just continue trying to approach things with no sense in mind, and go back to being inhuman."

"You don't think they'll help you for the better?" I shook my head furiously. "God, Sato–this is starting to concern me. Why are you attempting to erase this story?"

"It was all temporary," I stated. "All of this. It's a fragment that I want to give no importance to."

Liar. You care. You just want to make people feel better–to live without you.

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, before you came in here, Sato, Nishimura wanted me to inform him of where you're going. He was adamant about going to the same school as you," With my lips pursed, I clenched my fists. "Rest assured, I haven't told him anything yet, but I don't think you can escape–"

"One last favor," I put up my pointer finger, slightly interrupting and pleading for help. He inhaled deeply. "Lie to Riki."

Teacher Fujii shook his head. "You know I can't do that."

"You can. Tell him I'm going to Kyoto University," I begged. Teacher Fujii could sense the desperation in my voice. "Please. I don't want to see him."

"Well, we can't let your score go to waste, Sato, I–"

"I'll apply for Tokyo University."

"W-What?!" Teacher Fujii widened his eyes, slamming down my file. "Sato, nobody from our school has ever gone to Tokyo. They've applied, but they've never gotten in, which made people avoid it!"

"I'll take the test for Tokyo, Tohoku, and Osaka. Only those three," I stuck my pinky finger up. "Promise me. For now, lie to Riki and say that I'm planning on picking Kyoto if I get in. If I don't get into all three of those schools, then, you can tell the truth. If I do, you keep my secret. Do we have a deal?"

"I don't get anything out of this, Sato–I risk losing my job!"

"You get bragging rights–that a student you mentored went to the top university in Japan only to follow in your footsteps," I explained. "You'll probably get a raise. You'll probably be getting more offers from students to be under your care. Teacher, I'm your class president, and I'm your pupil. You have to trust me on this."

Teacher Fujii swallowed hard, staring at my pinky finger. Finally, he sighed, linking it with mine. "This is my last favor to you," I nodded. "You have to promise me you won't hurt yourself doing this. The last thing I want is to see you dead from exhaustion."

"I promise that I won't overdo myself–and that I'll make you proud. If there's one person I have to represent, it's you," He softly smiled, nodding with determination. "Thank you, for the last time. You've been nothing but a help to me. Nobody would treat me the way you do."

He was about to say something but caught himself. "Wait. You're not usually this kind," Damn it. "What are you trying to get out of me from not only this favor but also your words."

"A question," He groaned. "Please. I'll leave after you tell me. I'm not that much of a stuck-up."

"Okay, fine, fine. What is it, Sato?"

"Where's Yamaguchi Hisako... applying to?"

"I'm home," I said into the open air, racing up the stairs. Father said a few, muffled words from his room. Time to go check on Sato after such a long~ day. After talking to Teacher Fujii, he drained all the energy I had left, and not to mention the conversation I had with Riki and the rest of them over the basic stupidity of things- Ugh, I can't even bring it up. It'll hurt my head more than I sprained my ankle. They're really just– "Sato?"

The water was pristine and still. Oddly still. The air flurried over her bowl like a storm, and I felt my throat get caught on a hook. I slowly inched toward Sato, hoping that the angle of her stillness was fooling me. Her orange-yellow body was immobile, sitting at the top. Her tail was horizontal instead of vertical, and I wished this was a dream.

I pressed my hands against the tank and knelt before it like I was bowing to a God, looking up. Sato's eyes didn't move. Her fins were stuck to her sides. No. No. Her tail didn't propel her. She– She–

"Father!" I screamed, hearing him race over. He slammed the door open and looked down at me, his face growing into disbelief. "What happened to Sato? Did you see her suffering? Did you see her this morning, struggling to get water or eat? Did you overfeed her? DID YOU!?"

"No, No! I–I left early this morning! Your mother was the only one here after you left!" Mother. It's always her. She killed Sato. She killed my child–my own emblem of hope that allowed me to remain in this house. She murdered my spirit and all that lingered, praying that it would fix me. "Don't tell me... Is Sato dead?"

She can't be. There's no way.

I fell to the ground, gripping onto the desk for support. Father knelt as well, holding me up by my shoulders. I started sobbing as I saw Sato sitting there, afloat, gawking at me. Sato was dead. She was no longer by my side. She was no longer the one person who felt my isolation and felt the absurdity of my feelings. Our daughter, the connection between me and Nishimura Riki, the string of fate–had been cut.

"Rie, please–"

I kept crying. It was the most I've cried ever. My jeans were soaked with the waterfall of a thousand tears, and my palms tired as they tried to suppress my eyes' sorrow.

"I got it!" Riki exclaimed, laughing happily. I clapped at his skill, the vendor filling a bag with water. Riki quickly placed it in, the clear water allowing the both of us to see the orange-yellow fish. "Thank you, Rie. I only got it because of you. Here."

It swam around swiftly, unable to stay still. My smile slowly faded at the sight of seeing its stress in a conformed space. I was suddenly unable to move, rooted in the ground, staring at this little fish in panic. After another few seconds of fast swimming, it made sight of me–and faced me. Its sun-yellow eyes gawked at me, screaming for me to set it free. The fish was scaly and big, its tail skinnier than its body, and its complexion was shining. But, I could not be convinced–or rather, I could not find myself allowing it.

It stared at me. Not menacingly, though. It stared at me with misery, with desperation.

I found that I was this goldfish in a bag. Me and the goldfish were perfect parallels, though we don't come from the same families. We were both trapped, suffocated by the life we lived and the surroundings we unfortunately damned ourselves in. We were captured, pretending that life was better than perceived.

But, at the end of the day, we were still goldfish in bags–we were still going to die, no matter how much oxygen or water filled our lungs. We were going to die early or old, with the mistakes of taking the bait and having to live with it.

I... was never going to escape, was I?

I was going to continue living this way. A logical-illogical, corrupt-calm, fragile-brave way. I was never going to find balance. I'm always destined to fall short.

I was always going to live in fear.

There is no escape. I was praying for something that didn't exist.

Sato was the gate, and foolishly, I ran for it–but it was locked all this time.

"Sato," I stared at my lovely dragon-eyed fish. She swam around, tail and gills in full motion. I poked her glass bowl, giving her for Christmas a bigger home, so now, she can swim from my fingers to my elbow. She stared at me for a moment, waiting for me to continue my words. "Do you feel alone in your tank?"

She continued staring. I think that's a no. Gosh, she's just like me. "Promise you won't leave me, okay? When you're gone, then I'll become your reincarnate–you're the only reason that I'm still in contact with your father."

Sato's tail waved back and forth at me.

Maybe that was the missing sign. She was destined to die. Goldfish are supposed to typically live for 5-10 years, but all that isolation, all that distress, and all that love a little too late–killed her. She lived for only half of one.

"I failed you, Sato," I whispered through my tears, gasping for air. "I'm sorry. I failed you and everyone else."

"No, no, come on, Rie, don't say that," Father tried to soothe me. "She'll remember you always."

I know she will. Her death was the final straw.

And with her permission granted, I will fix things–with the logic I suppressed all along.