The Beginning - Miho - June [Part 3 of 7]
Serious.
Since when did that word stop being a compliment?
I've had bad eyesight since I was little, so I've been wearing glasses everyday since I entered Elementary School. Apparently, there used to be a time when people held the assumption that [Glasses = Serious Academic Type], but nowadays, when they see grade schoolers wearing glasses, they would first assume that it's due to playing too much video games-- [Glasses = Lazy Gamer Otaku Type]. As if in opposition of such irrational judgement, I had chosen of my own accord to lead a life of diligence and seriousness. This talk goes way back to when I was in first grade.
However, it was quite surprising for me that, just as the image of glasses changes with passage of time, the meaning of the word 'serious' also changes with progress of my age. Up to the end of Elementary School, it was one of compliment and respect. When I got up to Middle School, it became a title that made me feel some sort of itch or pain. And now, in my third year of High School, it got turned into Serious Specs, a name representing some new type of demon.
And that lead to the ritual to exorcise said demon, which sent all three of us plunging into the reservoir, ending with me having to push my bicycle around while soaked from head to toe.
Why did I have to go through all that just because someone thinks my seriousness need fixing? I just don't get it. My seriousness... what's so wrong with it?
I dropped off my bicycle at the ferry dock's parking area and took a look around.
After confirming that no one is looking, I started to wring out the water from the edge of my skirt. One, two, three-- And just when I became less conscious of my surroundings and started to count four, a middle-aged man appeared from the waiting room. I panickingly closed my skirt and crouched down.
That was a close call. But my skirt hasn't stopped dripping yet. All I could do was give up, letting water drip down onto the asphalt as I made my way to the wharf.
There are two wharfs for boarding ships. One for ships sailing out to the open sea, the other for regular service ferries that sail the inland sea, making trips to and from the five Himekura Islands. A compact-sized ferry is docked along the regular service wharf, bathing in the evening sun as it waited for the time of departure. Near the vessel's bow, a seagull made what seemed to be a face of curiosity as it floated on the water. The Seto Inland Sea's waves are calm today, as with any other day.
"Hey, what's up with all the water, Miho? You jumped into the sea or what?"
Just as I boarded the ferry, my Dad, who was tending to the passengers on the deck, immediately saw what was out of ordinary.
"Uh, well... It's a long story. Lend me a towel, Dad."
"Here, use this."
Dad immediately responded, holding out the ragged cloth that was previously draped on his neck.
"Er, that's a bit..."
"What, can't share a towel with your old man? Kids these days... He~y, Kome-chan. Switch with me for a bit."
He could guess just from my wry smile, it seems. Dad shouted out to one of his co-workers smoking on the wharf's end, then opened the control room's fence with an 'Off Limits' sign on it and went inside.
"What's this, Miho-chan? Aren't you all soaked up? You fell into the sea or what?"
Komemoto-san, dressed in the same light blue crew uniform as Dad, grinned and snickered as he crossed the gangway. I have to wonder, do seamen think the sea is the only place that has water or something?
"He~y, Miho. You can use this, right? The seats will get all wet, so go up to the second floor."
Dad came back out of the control room and threw me a towel that had been curled into a ball from the other side of the fence.
"Thank...pfft--"
That was way too fast.
I picked up the towel that just hit my face and fell to the deck, wiping my hair with it regardless of the fact.
As much as I'd like to lean on the seats on the first floor, the captain himself was keeping watch right in front of me, so I reluctantly made my way up the metal stairs to the sightseeing seats.
Ten or so passengers are on the wind-swept deck of the second floor. A group of middle-aged tourists, with one Cameraman-ish middle-aged man gripping the railings while looking down at the wharf.
It's quite embarrassing, having the group of middle-aged tourists repeatedly glancing at me while soaked up like this. What's more, the thought that the Cameraman might have seen under my skirt a while ago is also super embarrassing. I distanced myself as far as possible from the Cameraman with the baseball cap, and sneakily sat myself down on a pipe bench. The middle-aged man enthusiastically overlooked the crew preparing to set sail, paying no mind to me at all.
It's intriguing. For me, all this is no more than some mundane scenery, but for him, it's a spectable that he can't afford to look away from even for a second. The middle-aged Cameraman never separated himself from that spot, at least not until the ferry started sailing off from the wharf, leaving trails of white-crested waves.
It takes twenty minutes by ferry from the mainland to the First Himekura Island, on which I was born and raised. In other words, it's an outlying island. Although it is the largest and most populated of the five Himekura Islands, the level of its educational institutions go up to only Middle School, causing me to have to commute to a High School on the mainland everyday via the transit ferry that Dad handles. The vessel comes around once per hour. If I were to miss a trip in the morning, then I'd be late for sure. But considering the island's population, the number of trips per day actually is quite generous.
It's intriguing. For me, all this is no more than some mundane scenery, but for him, it's a spectable that he can't afford to look away from even for a second. The middle-aged Cameraman never separated himself from that spot, at least not until the ferry started sailing off from the wharf, leaving trails of white-crested waves.
It takes twenty minutes by ferry from the mainland to the First Himekura Island, on which I was born and raised. In other words, it's an outlying island. Although it is the largest and most populated of the five Himekura Islands, the level of its educational institutions go up to only Middle School, causing me to have to commute to a High School on the mainland everyday via the transit ferry that Dad handles. The vessel comes around once per hour. If I were to miss a trip in the morning, then I'd be late for sure. But considering the island's population, the number of trips per day actually is quite generous.
[Dear Customers, thank you for utilizing the service of this Himekura Steam Ship today.]
As the ferry made its way past the breakwater and out of the gulf, the vessel's speakers started broadcasting the captain's usual announcements. Being who I am, I promptly clasped my hands together and offer a prayer to the god of the sea. Please, I beg of you, may today finally be the day Dad doesn't say anything unnecessary.
[This vessel will be making trips to the five Himekura Islands, and is scheduled to arrive at the First Himekura Island on 17:25. Furthermore, helming the vessel is myself, Kurahashi Taizou, forty-three years of age. I am currently shouldering the responsibility of the livelihood of my wife, my little daughter, and also my eldest daughter, the soaking wet one on the observation deck.]
...But the prayer was not heard today, as with any other day. The people on the observation deck are already bursting with laughter.
Dammit, Dad. And here I am, always telling you to stop fooling around on broadcast.
I hung my head down and endured the never-ending stream of chuckles from those on the sightseeing seats.
[Err-- Everyone, up ahead to the right is the Kamikura Island. It enshrines the Guardian Diety of the five Himekura Islands. And right next to it is the famous tourist spot, the Kendama Rock. Please, do enjoy the sight of the gods playing with the evening sun to your heart's content.]
Maybe Dad could actually sense this daughter's anger, as his broadcast has suddenly become normal. At the same time, one among the middle-aged tourist group excitedly pointed out to the sea, and the Cameraman has already started pressing his shutter.
...And this is when we were not even at the photo spot yet.
I raised my face up, seeing in the distance the Kendama Rock's tip hooking the orange evening sun.
The Kendama Rock. Official name: Inukura Island. An uninhabited island lying between the mainland and the First Island, it had been shaved by the Seto Inland Sea's highly fluctuating tides, resulting in its figure that resembles a cross, or the tip of a Kendama. Once per day, the evening sun representing the Kendama's ball lines up with the island's pointed end, completing the gods' play set. As the Prefecture has designated it as a tourist spot and is preserving it accordingly, and especially since the Five Himekura Islands doesn't have any other local specialty, we are all grateful of Guardian Diety for having provided us with a guaranteed increase in tourism revenue and ferry round trips.
The ferry went slightly off the shortest route between the mainland and the First Island, reducing its speed at the area where one can see the sun and the rock line up prefectly. Even with him having to make frequent adjustments on the helm, Dad has always been able to keep the original schedule. His skills and discipline from when he was a fisherman really aren't just for show.
I was able to admire the view for only a brief moment, before the nightmarish broadcast started on the speakers once again.
[Was it to your liking, Dear Customers? The Kendama Rock, pride and joy of Himekura. An island of the gods, a perfect fit for Enka. Please, do listen to your heart's content. Man of the Sea, by Ohtori Gorou.]
Dad? What are you doing, blasting music like you're some kind of DJ? Stop it, or else I'll really get mad at you.
But regardless of this daughter's worries, the intro of the quintessential Enka, so unfitting for a ship broadcast, has started playing on the speaker. And together with it came Dad's raspy, disharmonious voice,
Maybe Dad could actually sense this daughter's anger, as his broadcast has suddenly become normal. At the same time, one among the middle-aged tourist group excitedly pointed out to the sea, and the Cameraman has already started pressing his shutter.
...And this is when we were not even at the photo spot yet.
I raised my face up, seeing in the distance the Kendama Rock's tip hooking the orange evening sun.
The Kendama Rock. Official name: Inukura Island. An uninhabited island lying between the mainland and the First Island, it had been shaved by the Seto Inland Sea's highly fluctuating tides, resulting in its figure that resembles a cross, or the tip of a Kendama. Once per day, the evening sun representing the Kendama's ball lines up with the island's pointed end, completing the gods' play set. As the Prefecture has designated it as a tourist spot and is preserving it accordingly, and especially since the Five Himekura Islands doesn't have any other local specialty, we are all grateful of Guardian Diety for having provided us with a guaranteed increase in tourism revenue and ferry round trips.
The ferry went slightly off the shortest route between the mainland and the First Island, reducing its speed at the area where one can see the sun and the rock line up prefectly. Even with him having to make frequent adjustments on the helm, Dad has always been able to keep the original schedule. His skills and discipline from when he was a fisherman really aren't just for show.
I was able to admire the view for only a brief moment, before the nightmarish broadcast started on the speakers once again.
[Was it to your liking, Dear Customers? The Kendama Rock, pride and joy of Himekura. An island of the gods, a perfect fit for Enka. Please, do listen to your heart's content. Man of the Sea, by Ohtori Gorou.]
Dad? What are you doing, blasting music like you're some kind of DJ? Stop it, or else I'll really get mad at you.
But regardless of this daughter's worries, the intro of the quintessential Enka, so unfitting for a ship broadcast, has started playing on the speaker. And together with it came Dad's raspy, disharmonious voice,
[OH~~~ THE SEA~~~♪]
Why's he singing along? Seriously, karaoke? After blurting to everyone that I'm your daughter? This is the worst... Those chuckles and giggles around me are turning into full-blown laughter now. Enough already. Chihiro, Dad, every one of you... Why...
"Why can't you all take things more seriously!"
Why's he singing along? Seriously, karaoke? After blurting to everyone that I'm your daughter? This is the worst... Those chuckles and giggles around me are turning into full-blown laughter now. Enough already. Chihiro, Dad, every one of you... Why...
"Why can't you all take things more seriously!"
With the cry of my soul reaching no one, Dad's live karaoke entered the second song.
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